


Hellfire and Church Bells

by bekindplsrewind



Series: Hellfire and Church Bells [1]
Category: Angel - Fandom, AtS, BtVS - Fandom, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, angelus - Fandom, dru - Fandom, drusilla - Fandom, spike - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon/Canon, Canon/OFC, Childe & Sire Interactions, Childe/Sire Bond(s), Comedy, Demons, Drama, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, Horror, Magic, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Sexual Content, Supernatural - Freeform, Vampires, Victorian setting, Violence, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:53:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 44
Words: 319,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5282819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bekindplsrewind/pseuds/bekindplsrewind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Victorian London, newly sired vampire, Spike, sets out on a usual hunt for a snack. Accidentally siring a girl whom he left for dead, Drusilla brings her back when she discovers she's 'alive'. Elizabeth, an aristocrat on a righteous path to becoming a nun, is suddenly thrust into a world of darkness. Spike begrudgingly takes on the role as her sire as they travel around western Europe in hopes of reuniting with Angelus and Drusilla. Slow romance will eventually develop much later in the series' story between Spike and Elizabeth. As of the moment, the events that happen during the beginning characterise their development. Warning tags in place because of future events later to be revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: For Whom the Bell Tolls

**Author's Note:**

> Please bear in mind, this was based on an RP. I've tried my best to revise this as much as possible to make this sound like one cohesive story. If there is some confusion, my apologies. I'll probably have to wring this through another five dozen times to make it seem 'cleaner'. The story is currently being re-edited and the first revised chapter is now posted. Enjoy, and please comment!

**London - November 15, 1880**

With the setting sun, the sky was painted with hues of purples and reds as church bells broke the evening silence, a call that ushered out the most devoted onto the emptying streets. Of the few amongst them was Elizabeth Victoria Lorn, a young woman of only eighteen years who had chosen a life dedicated to the church rather than one of wealth and marriage. She had slowly been giving up her luxuries to prepare herself for the convent, much to the dismay of her parents, but it was a decision she had made wholeheartedly, and there wasn't any convincing her otherwise.

She raised her doleful blue eyes up to the sky with a soft sigh. Like the mottled colours that swirled across it, she felt an amalgam of feelings inside her—hope, anxiety, fear, dread, and a lingering sadness. She looked at it like it was a metaphor for her present state: the brilliant colours were her optimism, the good that would come from her decision, and yet, despite how virtuous her path would be, there was also a bleakness she faced—the approaching sunset would bring darkness, boldly stating the end of her current life. Things would only be grim for a moment, she thought, trying to convince herself that she had made the right choice. Struggling with her inner turmoil, a sudden clattering pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Have you got a penny to spare, miss?" A beggar sat crouched on the cold pavement as he raised a dented and rusty tin mug towards her.

Elizabeth paused. Happy with the distraction, she reached into her sleeve for her coin purse, only to realise she hadn't brought it with her. Her brows drew together. "I-I'm sorry, I haven't any money on me," she stammered, her eyes apologetic.

"Then what good 'ave you got standin' around for? Piss off!" the beggar spat.

Elizabeth flinched as her heart drummed beneath her heaving chest. She was more alarmed than scared at the man's sudden outburst, but she remained where she stood. Light was fading fast; she felt an urgency to return home and thought it best to heed to the man's wishes, but she also didn't want to leave him empty handed. A few moments to spare wouldn't make a difference, she thought.

"Stupid spoilt bitch! Fink you can look down your nose at me?"

Elizabeth ignored the vulgar remarks as she blindly felt at the back of her head, wrestling to pluck the hairpins out from her nest of hair from beneath her bonnet. With a sharp sigh, she resorted to tugging the ribbons underneath her chin and removing it instead, along with the ornate comb that held her prim updo in place. With a decisive shift of her hand, her plaited hair was released as it tumbled past her shoulders down to her lower back.

┼†‡

Not far from the prospective nun crept a nondescript man. With the sun finally dipping below the horizon, he finally emerged from the shadows, changing course to the middle of the street like a red carpet had been unfurled for him. He strolled along unhurried and with a strut of self-importance, yet, however unbridled he may have seemed then, he was preoccupied with only one thought—he wanted blood. He scanned the scope of scampering city dwellers, deciding who would be the most appropriate for his kill.

The tinkering of jangling coins against tin had been ringing in his ears for a while, something that was commonplace with the string of beggars lining the street—though he did not expect the girl. He canted his head as he moved closer, observing her long, mousy brown hair as it unravelled. She moved towards the tattered tramp, almost bravely. He raised a brow.

"Here." Elizabeth bent forward as she offered the comb towards the homeless man.

He raised his eyes to her and the object in hand before scowling. "Is dat supposed to be an insult? What do you expect me to do wiff such a girly fing? Don't care much for the knots in me hair; haven't got much to spare, neithuh," he grumbled. Turning his head away, he held his coat tighter around his frame.

"It's adorned with gold and pearls," Elizabeth persisted. "Surely that's worth something…" she said a little quieter to herself.

The man slowly turned his head back round as he eyed the comb again.

"Please, take it. Exchange it for food and a warm bed."

Tentatively, the man reached out towards it.

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "May God be with you—" She shrieked as the man had not only reached for the comb but had also clamped a firm grip over her gloved hand.

"I'd much rathuh 'ave you than Him to warm me bed." He grinned, revealing the gaping holes between his checkered teeth.

With round eyes, Elizabeth gasped as she tried to remove herself from his clutches. "P-please…"

"But you've been so generous." He brought his other hand forward and rubbed it over the top of hers; Elizabeth squirmed with more fervor. "I'd be grateful for your charity," he said with a chuckle, his fingers creeping up to the cuff of her sleeve.

She could no longer ignore how her heart raged; it was like a caged animal begging to be released. With a shrill cry, she yanked her hand free, leaving her comb and glove behind in his hold, and her bonnet and pins to fall to the ground. She spun on her spot and dashed away quickly as the waves of her hair trailed behind her.

The killer had been watching their interaction closely and kept an eye on her in the distance.

He stepped up next to the beggar, not bothering to glance at him. "Glorious night, ain't it?"

With glove still clutched in hand, the beggar turned the comb over as he grinned at it. "It is," he said with another chuckle. He peered up at the man just as he took a step away from him.

"Things are about to get even better." The killer grinned and began to pick up speed.

┼†‡

Running half blind with hot tears streaming down her face, Elizabeth greedily gulped in the chilly air past spasms of sobs, each breath burning her throat and lungs. She finally slowed down to a languid pace when her legs were about to give, but her feet still throbbed, echoing the pounding of the hard pavement.

She wiped hard at her tear-stained cheeks with her gloveless hand, feeling foolish for crying like some helpless girl, and knowing full well she looked the part. A single ribbon had remained intact in her hair, keeping it from falling in her face. It was a style that was reserved for girls, something Elizabeth much preferred herself, but she had given up that youthful look two years before, along with her girlish notions for womanhood.

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth shook her head and straightened her back. She wouldn't be seen in this way—she wouldn't let  _them_  see her in this way. It would only fuel her parents with reasons to reject her path to God and keep her coddled in her family's wealth. The man only acted out of hunger and his meager circumstances, she reasoned. It was all a test of faith, a test of her will power and resolute devotion.

"I will not let Him down," she whispered with an affirming nod. Sighing softly, she lifted her eyes to see the moon and stars shimmering in the blackening sky; a small smile made a reappearance on her lips.

She continued homeward bound as before, her gait amicable as she enjoyed the gas lit lamps that dotted the streets; the steady rhythm of her clacking heels was also something she found agreeable. That was until another's footfall joined hers.

Unknowingly, her back stiffened; with tensing shoulders, she turned instinctively to glance behind her. A man trailed some safe distance away, but his face was cast with shadow just as he slipped out from beneath a halo of light.

Elizabeth turned back round, fighting the seed of paranoia that began to burrow its way into her gut.  _People need to hurry home as well,_  she thought.  _He might be a working man, anxious to arrive home to see his newborn daughter, to kiss her tiny forehead._  She smiled at this, taking comfort in a made-up fantasy for the shadowed man. Though the sound of his footfall seemed to be much closer than before, causing her to inadvertently quicken her pace.

It would only have made sense for Elizabeth to run home without stopping—or any sensible woman for that matter—having a man at her heels, especially having suffered at the hands of the beggar not long before, yet surprisingly, she held her ground. It wasn't that she wasn't afraid, in fact, she was growing more afraid as the night progressed; she was just blinded by her faith that God would protect her. She turned around once more to glance at the man behind her. With his features half hidden, she still offered a timid yet apologetic smile, as if she had been the one who had wronged him for possibly thinking him bad.

As she turned back around, the stalker blinked; her unexpected smile thrown his way was admittedly odd. Disappointed with the little fear he had incited in her, he decided he would be less subtle about his ways and make himself more present. He made a supernatural maneuver, seeming to flicker in front of her path.

Elizabeth nearly tripped over her own feet as she halted, causing her to gasp. "Oh!" Seeing the familiar silhouette of the man appearing in front of her without warning, she also noticed the absence of tapping footsteps. She turned to glance behind her to find no one.

"Mummy and daddy expectin' you home, now?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking through the silence. There was a glint in his eyes as he watched her.

Elizabeth faced him with bowed brows, confused that she hadn't noticed him run past her. "T-they are, sir." Her voice was quiet as it wavered. She swallowed.

"Would you help a poor soul?" He placed a flat palm across his midsection. With that, her anxiety and paranoia seemed to have vanished. Judging by his dishevelled appearance, it only made sense he wanted something warm in his belly. But there was an issue. "Your charity would be greatly appreciated, and I'm just so very,  _very_  hungry…"

"I… I don't have anything else of value on my person," she said with a frown.

He stepped forward into the light, his lips curling up into an ugly grin. "But you do, love."

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she gasped, witnessing the man's face morph into one of a demon's—yellow eyes; bony, protruding brows; and savagely sharp fangs. He lunged at her before she could scream, quickly sweeping her into an alley and causing her blue skirts to swirl and sway like they were dancing. He held her close as she struggled against him.

"No worries, love," he said, trying to stifle his laughter, "I'll light a candle for you when this is over." Baring his fangs, he sank them into her neck.

Elizabeth squealed and her vision grew dark. With only the sound of her breathing and drumming heartbeat to keep her company, she blindly pawed at the monster's coat before its form slowly seeped back in front of her. She groaned softly, her tears spilling over the sides of her face as she swallowed. Finding her bearings, Elizabeth grasped at the beast's shoulder, tugging at its coat in vain before beating her fists into its arms and chest—but this did little to faze it. She whimpered as she was held closer still, her face being pressed against the crook of its shoulder and neck as she felt her strength drain with the blood being sucked out of her. Elizabeth bit hard past its shirt into muscled flesh, hoping she would impart as much pain as it did to her that she would be released. Instead, a pleasurable moan rumbled out of her captor's throat, causing her to shiver and recoil. She suspected it had little to do with what she had just done, but it was a thought she didn't want to dwell on. There was nothing more she could do as her eyes drooped and her arms fell slack with her diminished strength.

Elizabeth blinked slowly, watching the small puffs of her breath leave her body and swirl up skyward. All she could think about were the other possible choices she could have made that day: she shouldn't have gone to church; she should have waited for Clara for the carriage; she should have stayed home with her mother. And that's all she really wanted at that moment, to be home in the safety of her parents' embraces. She made a barely audible whimper at the thought she would never see them again. As her welling tears plummeted down over her cheeks, she could no longer deny the question she had been dismissing throughout her attack. Where was her God in all of this? Why… had He abandoned her…?

Slowly, Elizabeth's eyes closed. Even those burdening thoughts didn't seem to matter anymore as her consciousness faded. She finally felt at peace.

The demon continued to suckle at her throat as her pulse waned with each draught he pulled from her veins; it grew fainter and slower, indicative that he had nearly bled her dry. Feeling satiated, his eyes flickered open as some semblance of normalcy returned to him. He pulled away from her ragged neck as his face dissolved back into the man from before.

"It was fun whilst it lasted, love," he said with whimsy, dropping her like a heavy sack. Spinning on his spot, he walked away, tasting blood he had missed as he licked his lips.

┼†‡

Things were still and silent.

Elizabeth had been left for dead, but something unexpected happened—she felt an awareness return to her from her empty void. With her perception of time distorted, and the event of her attack forgotten, she felt a warmth where she lay, being held and comforted like when she was a child. Had she fallen asleep reading in the garden again? Her father would be upset with her, she thought. She shivered as a sudden chill swept over her. She wanted to get up and move, but she felt so tired and weak.

Then there came a drumming, each pulse growing stronger and louder. But it was too loud to be her own heartbeat, she reasoned. It stopped abruptly. Had she died? No, that was silly… they were footsteps.

 _Papa?_ Elizabeth cried internally, only to hear a muffled voice flit in and out.

"…Something dead, something dead…"

It was a woman's voice, but she held a light, girlish charm to the quality of her tone.

Elizabeth felt the world spin around her as she was moved from her spot. The sudden shift had also reawakened a dull pain in her neck and a throbbing in her head. She moaned softly with closed eyes.

"Been thrown out of your cradle, have you? Poor baby."

Elizabeth mewled in an effort to speak.

"Shush, now," the woman said, pressing Elizabeth's head to her chest, "grandmother's got you; I'll take you to your daddy."

Had she called for her father out loud? Elizabeth was sure she had only thought it, but she was relieved that she would be brought home. She managed to glimpse at the woman through weighted lids, noting the dark curls that framed her pale face. She looked angelic, Elizabeth thought.

Having difficulty keeping her eyes open, she shut them and succumbed to a welcoming darkness.

┼†‡

"Angelus? Drusilla?" the killer called out from a dimly lit foyer, returning to the current home that he and his companions had 'inherited' from one of their wealthy casualties. With one quick jerk, he loosened his already slackened necktie and dropped it to the floor. He was greeted with the image of his adopted father figure hunching over a whimpering woman as he entered the next room.

Angelus snapped his head up and turned to glance at his junior. "Home so soon, William?" he asked, his facade likened with the same monstrosity as he gasped with bloodied fangs.

"' _Spike_ '," he corrected with a little force, a name he found more suitable for his demon.

Angelus chuckled softly.

Spike resumed with less hostility, "Went out to grab a quick bite." He leaned back against the wall by the doorframe. "Sorry, mate, didn't mean to interrupt your supper. Thought we could go out and 'paint the town red', seeing as the night's still young," he suggested as a wry grin touched his lips.

"It has been a while since we've had a family outing," Angelus said thoughtfully. "Have the carriage ready when Dru returns."

The woman on the bed moaned and rolled her head; her eyes sought to focus before settling on the other man in the room. "Help me…" she croaked almost inaudibly.

"Want to have a go at it?" Angelus offered.

"I'll pass. Saving my appetite for later."

"Suit yourself." Not caring whether he had an audience or not, Angelus turned back around and resumed his meal.

And just as she had been mentioned, Drusilla had returned. "I found a baby on our doorstep!" she called out.

"Drusilla…" Spike smiled warmly and jolted up from his spot, quick to follow her voice.

Drusilla brought the half-dead girl into the parlour and laid her on the sofa.

"Ready for a ravishing night out, pet?" Spike strode in to see his sire and lover as she rose from the sofa, blindly missing the girl that she had brought in with her. He clutched her close by the waist and peppered her with kisses.

Drusilla giggled and peered at him with affection.

"What's this about a baby?" he asked with an amused chuckle. He knew well that Drusilla wasn't known to speak lucidly, but it was an odd quirk he loved about her.

"Silly Willy," Drusilla slid to his side and pressed her cheek to his, "that baby," she said, directing his gaze towards the motionless figure.

His eyes widened at the sight of the girl he had drained not two hours before.

"It was all alone in the dark without a hand to hold or bite." Drusilla drifted from him and perched herself on the sofa's edge next to her head. "Poor thing hasn't even eaten yet." She pouted as she traced a finger over the girl's face; her eyes were transfixed on her, but she was more fascinated than concerned from what she was displaying.

"Love, we mustn't bring in the rubbish," he said gently. "It's not our job to clean up our messes," he settled on the cushion next to her and held her hand, "leave it to the slumdogs."

"It smells like… Morley and aether, and…" she turned to look at him, "you."

Spike blinked. It felt like she was testing him. "She was only leftovers you found from my evening dinner, pet, nothing more," he reasoned, giving the top of her hand a reassuring pat.

"Roughed up little dovey," Drusilla turned to the girl again and ran her fingers through her tangling locks, "put up a fight from the looks of it," she said as her fingers trailed down to her exposed and bruised hand. Drusilla flicked her gaze at Spike.

"Oh. That," Spike said after a brief pause. "Her hair was of her own volition," he explained, "but that was the lecherous tramp's doing." He nodded at the circular bruises the beggar had imprinted on her. Spike leaned in with a smirk and pressed Drusilla towards him. "Though, you know how I like to play  _rough_ ," he added, almost growling the last word.

Drusilla giggled as she pressed her forehead to his. "Did you make a sport of it, William?" she asked innocently as she angled her head, her lips barely brushing his. Spike watched her speak with drunken eyes as his lips parted in an attempt to kiss her, but she held him in place. She slipped her hand from his grasp and slowly dragged it up his torso to his neck, grazing the side of his face before tracing her fingers down to his lips. Spike flicked his wet tongue out in reciprocation to her touch and sucked her thumb. "Would you show me how you did it?" she continued with her girlish innocence.

Spike jerked her by the waist towards him, causing her to yelp and smile with delight. "I'll do more than just show you." He smirked again, bringing himself closer now that his lover was more than willing. In his mounting lust, he'd all but devoured her hungry mouth when he heard a moan that hadn't come from his lover. They paused with their noses rubbing against each other when they heard it coming again from beside them. Slowly, they turned simultaneously to see the previous clump of a figure stir.

Elizabeth struggled to focus on the room as she blinked with half-mast eyes. She had heard a man and a woman speaking but couldn't follow their conversation. With barely a shift of her head, the room spun in front of her; she moaned and resigned to resting her eyes again with furrowed brows.

"Bloody hell…" Spike murmured, his wide eyes fixed on the girl as he slowly drew back from Drusilla's form. "But… she was dead…." He stood and took a couple of steps away as if he were in a daze.

Elizabeth managed to open her eyes to see him standing a short distance from where she lay. She hadn't quite registered that the dead person he was referring to was her, as she proved to be very much not dead at all.

He stopped abruptly to turn round and exclaim: "She was  _dead!_ " He gestured sharply at her, as if saying those words with as much conviction and passion would make them true again.

Elizabeth winced and whimpered as she pressed herself to the back of the cushions, the sudden movement causing his image to go black momentarily before it slowly reappeared. Only seeing him cast in a darkened silhouette reminded her of something vaguely familiar, then with a gasp, the memory of her attack flooded back to her. It was him, the man—the monster—who had tried to kill her! Her chest began to heave as she stared back into his glowering, sharp eyes. They were blue and almost bewitching, seeming to glitter in the dim lighting of the room, but she remembered them glowing yellow; his mouth was shaped cruelly like weights had permanently been stitched at the corners, tugging them downward, yet all she could see were the jagged teeth, peeking between those angry lips like shards of broken glass.

Spike growled, causing the girl to flinch and whimper. He turned and huffed a sigh as he took to pacing. "How is this even possible!" he said out loud, trying to rationalise his thoughts. "I drained her dry!"

"All it takes is a couple o' drops o' vampire blood," an Irish brogued voice interrupted.

Spike turned to see Angelus entering the room, now appearing more human than his usual pallor.

Elizabeth's eyes flickered to the other man.

"Impossible," Spike replied tartly. "I didn't  _give_  her any of my blood!"

"Maybe not willingly." Angelus slowly walked towards him and shifted Spike's open coat with a languid finger. "Ye sure that's a spill from dinner? Or is that yours?"

Spike blinked in confusion and blindly felt the area where Angelus had indicated before glancing down; his eyes widened at the sight of an all too familiar brownish-red colour. Shrugging his coat off his shoulder, he discovered a small ring of blood that had seeped and dried through his shirt. "Bloody hell…" Unfastening the top button, he yanked down the starched collar to reveal a dark bruise surrounding a ring of teeth marks puncturing his skin, much like the shape that stained his shirt. " _Bloody hell!_ " he exclaimed louder.

"Ye were too caught up with all the bloodlust to notice," said Angelus matter-of-factly.

"You little  _wench!_ " Spike's face morphed out of rage as he lunged at the girl.

Elizabeth let out a shrill cry and flinched as she snapped her eyes shut, expecting another torrent of pain—but that didn't come. Instead, she felt a gentle hand on her head.

"Shh, little dovey, William won't harm you."

It was that voice. Elizabeth trembled underneath her soothing touch as her head was petted. She slowly blinked and dared to steal a glance at her, finding that it was that angelic woman from before.

"Will you, William?" continued Drusilla, peering up at her lover, her voice almost hopeful and certain with her childish charm.

Spike broke from his glare to glance at her. Before he could grunt a response, he was preempted in more ways than one.

Angelus stood with his arm barred in front of his junior. "Like it or not, William, ye've sired her; she's your responsibility, now."

Spike snarled and smacked his hand away. " _My_  responsibility? Hardly when that harlot stole that sweet nectar right out of me!" He glared at her again.

As Drusilla pulled Elizabeth forward onto her lap, the trembling girl moaned and closed her eyes. "Come now, my sweet girl. Look how filthy you've gotten; that's unbecoming for a lady," she gently scolded. Drusilla shifted her upright to her knees, only to have her fall forward against her. "We'll have you cleaned up. How does a nice, warm bath sound?"

Elizabeth kept her head pressed to the woman's chest to keep the room from spinning. It was odd, but she trusted in her words, believing that she would protect her. Elizabeth kept still as her shivering lessened and her breathing slowed. A bath did sound lovely, but she feared a spoken reply would only enrage the beast in the room, and even a curt nod would keep her head reeling.

With a pleased smile, Drusilla hoisted her up on her feet and held her tightly round the waist. She draped Elizabeth's arm over her shoulder and beamed at Spike like she had received an early Christmas present.

Spike's mouth was set in a straight line. "Drusilla!" he hissed.

His disapproval went unnoticed as she turned away.

Elizabeth shuffled forward unsteadily like she was just learning to walk, but her feet barely touched the floor being that she was practically being carried out by her mysterious and dark haired saviour.

Spike's gaze followed them till they left the room. "And now Dru's playing house with her. Brilliant." He sighed.

The taller male remained composed and seemingly unaffected with everything that had just happened. "Calm down and put those fangs away, William. No point in grunting and whining about it, now." He took a step towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder from behind. "Seems like Dru's taken a liking to her. Should lessen the burden of taking on a progeny."

"How about," Spike turned on his heel to face Angelus, his features now human, "I kill her and be done with it?"

"You won't kill her, William," Angelus replied with nonchalance, but the sharp tug on Spike's open shirt may have indicated otherwise. He fixed the folds of his collar and even took care to button up the top.

"Says who?" the shorter male retorted, keeping his gaze locked on his face.

"Says I," Angelus replied, his eyes flicking up to meet Spike's, a subtle yet dangerous glint made apparent. "As your sire, I forbid you to kill her." As it was an unwritten rule to obey the commands of one's sire, Spike had no say against it, even if he wanted to. Angelus glanced back down at his handy work and made a small murmur of approval as he nodded.

Spike's mouth hung open for a brief moment, no words coming to mind as his entire being struggled to throw a tantrum. "Sod off!" he finally snarled, giving Angelus a quick shove.

Angelus gave a little chortle in response. "I amn't going to hold your hand with everything, William. She hasn't had enough of your blood; make sure that she's well fed," he instructed as he turned towards the door.

"Well, wait," there was a slight sound of desperation to Spike's voice as he took a couple of steps forward, "does this mean we're not going out tonight?"

"No, just you," Angelus said over his shoulder. "Good night, William." He gave a little wave with his hand.

"Bollocks!" Spike yelled, hoping that Angelus had heard him as the door closed behind him. "What happened to 'taking what we want'? I'm not a bloody manservant!"

Now alone, Spike did the only thing he could do. He left the room in a flurry and headed down the hallway.

┼†‡

"There, doesn't that feel better?"

Elizabeth lay pressed forward against the porcelain siding of the bathtub as she felt a trickle of water flow down her back. She let out a soft sigh, not even minding that the water wasn't the temperature she preferred; it was infinitely better than being in the same room as that monster. She hadn't even protested when she was being stripped out of her clothes, being entirely exposed and vulnerable in the presence of a complete stranger, but she attributed that to her grogginess. Surprisingly, it hadn't taken the woman much time at all; she was efficient with her hands and knew her way around these types of dresses. And she was incredibly strong… despite appearances. Elizabeth was bashful as she had wobbled on her feet, wearing only the ribbon to keep her hair from getting wet, but that feeling soon evaporated when she was gently lowered to the water.

Drusilla brought a washcloth to the girl's back as she leaned over the tub. "What's your name, love?" she asked softly.

Elizabeth lifted her cheek off her arms and opened her eyes. "…Elizabeth," she managed to croak, raising her gaze tentatively at the kind woman. Her lips were dry and she felt parched.

Drusilla's smile broadened. "Elizabeth… such a pretty name," she cooed. She drew gentle circles on her back with the washcloth and dipped it back into the cooling water every now and then.

Elizabeth sighed again and relaxed her head back down.

"William certainly did a number on you," Drusilla murmured, being gentle to clean the crusty blood off her neck. She held an amused smile on her lips.

 _So it has a name?_  Elizabeth thought, wincing slightly with closed eyes. Things had all seemed too surreal that night. Was she delirious? She felt like she was drunk. Surely she was dreaming. Though at that moment, she had to admit her bath felt good. She must have been heaven sent, she thought, relishing the feeling of the soothing washcloth return to her back.

"I'm Drusilla," the dark haired woman said as Elizabeth peered at her timidly, "but you may call me grandmother."

Elizabeth blinked. She had expected her to admit to being her guardian angel rather than asking her to call her… something that was beyond her years. But, if she were dreaming, things didn't need to make sense. "Grandmother…" she said slowly, testing the sound of it.

Drusilla sat up almost mechanically and brought a dripping hand to her chest. Her eyes appeared glossy as she beamed at the half-submerged girl.

Elizabeth blinked and straightened her back out of awkwardness after being stared at in lengthy silence. "Grandmother…?" she said with a bit of uncertainty, being hesitant at first.

Drusilla leaned forward and cupped Elizabeth's cheek. "Come, lovey," she clamped a hand around her arm, "let's get you out of that bathwater lest you get thrown out with it."

Elizabeth gripped the edge of the bathtub as Drusilla pulled her up. The warmth of the water helped her, easing the stiffness from her muscles and even seeming to give her strength, if not much. She slowly climbed out on unsteady feet.

Drusilla wrapped her in a towel and mopped the water off her skin. "There, much better," she said softly.

Elizabeth sighed in agreement.

Drusilla discarded the towel and picked up Elizabeth's chemise, helping to pull it over her head and carefully threaded her arms through the short sleeves.

What came next was akin to the sound of an infantryman storming base.

"Dru," Spike called out, "I'm comin' in!"

Elizabeth had barely pulled her skirt down when the door was thrown open. She shrieked at the sight of the monster's glare and buried her face into Drusilla's shoulder, whimpering and shivering as she wound her arms tightly around her neck.

Drusilla shushed her and ran a soothing palm over her back. Spike watched this tender moment with heated annoyance.

"Let's pick a bedroom for you. We can have it decorated with flowers and ribbons, if you like," Drusilla suggested as she guided her forward. When they neared Spike, Elizabeth flinched and balked. She peered up from Drusilla's chest and immediately nestled her face back into her shoulder when her eyes locked with his. Drusilla urged her onward. "Or perhaps fingers and viscera would be a more suitable choice?" Drusilla smiled as she looked off into the distance, then giggled.

She brought her into one of the rooms and sat her at the edge of the bed.

"Drusilla!" Spike hissed from the other room, his voice low and urgent.

"I won't be long, love," said Drusilla. Elizabeth watched her with rounded eyes as Drusilla straightened up and stood. "I'll have a pretty dress picked out for you when I return," she added with a smile. She retreated back to her agitated lover.

"Took you long enough," Spike grumbled, looking dejected. He'd stood idle where they'd left him.

Drusilla nuzzled his cheek. "What's wrong, sweet William? You look upset," she said, peering up at him. Then, with a giggle, she beamed at him like a proud mother. "I did not know you had given birth."

Spike almost winced at that. "Not on purpose," he muttered. "It's not as though I wanted her," he sighed and his expression softened, "not like you did with me. It was all an  _accident_ ," he spat the last word bitterly, "and now I have to live with it." Spike wrapped his arms around her waist and stooped low so he could rest his head against her shoulder.

"Her name is Elizabeth," Drusilla said as she pet his head.

Spike glanced up at her and made a noise that was between a scoff and a snort. "She's barely dead and you're already spoiling her. That's not helping, Dru." Spike sighed softly and lowered his gaze. "If only I could kill her and be done with it all," he said wistfully. With some reluctance, he finally pulled himself upright from Drusilla's form. "Time to feed 'the baby'," he mumbled.

He sauntered into the bedroom Drusilla had picked for her new pet and slipped in without a sound.

Elizabeth was nestled back in bed with the sheets pulled over her lap having felt cold waiting for her 'grandmother' to return. She bolted up and snatched the blanket to her chest when she realised her failed killer had joined her.

Spike stared at her with piercing eyes as he slowly walked towards her. "'Elizabeth', was it?" he said matter-of-factly, finally breaking the tense silence.

Elizabeth squirmed beneath the blanket as she tried to edge herself as far away from him as possible. There were only two thin layers from her skin, one being her modest chemise. Elizabeth felt a steadily growing heat on her face as she averted her eyes from his penetrating gaze. Her breathing slowed as she reminded herself that she was only dreaming; she wasn't going to make it out to be another nightmare. Finally, she answered his hanging question with a nod and glanced back at him timidly.

Spike stopped as he stood next to her bedside and let out an audible sigh. Pulling open the nightstand drawer, he prodded around its contents till he procured a letter opener from it. Elizabeth found herself swallowing as her gaze fixated on the object. The blade glinted in the candlelight.

"You must be famished," he said as he turned to look at her, though he didn't sound too concerned about her well-being.

Elizabeth licked her lips and nodded again. Her gaze flickered between his face and the sharp blade.

Spike peered at her and narrowed his eyes briefly as he scrutinised her. He understood the bond between a sire and a childe—it was something special and intimate, and for him, sacred. As much as he wanted to deny it, he felt that nagging bond with her. It was weak, comparatively so with the likes that he shared with Drusilla and Angelus—and even Darla, if he wanted to count her—but it was there, nevertheless. Undoubtedly, this revelation just reaffirmed that he had been the one who had sired her. He felt her presence first, not a physical one, but something he felt inside him. It was clear to anyone how scared she was of him, but he could feel her fear emanating from her. This was one thing about her that he rather liked.

Spike removed his coat and began to meticulously roll his sleeve up past his elbow; unable to tear her eyes away, Elizabeth watched him in silence as she held her breath. He continued and brought the blade to his wrist, and he grimaced and grunted as he sliced into his flesh.

Elizabeth's eyes grew wider as she watched the blood drip down his arm.

"Drink up," he grunted, lowering himself on the bed and extending his bleeding wrist to her like an offering.

Elizabeth was aghast. He was mad! Deranged! She whimpered and fought as he forced his weeping wound to her lips. Blood managed to dribble past into her pursed mouth and her eyes bulged when she tasted the salty and metallic notes sweep over her tongue. She turned her head to the side, but he pressed forward and held her in place. Tears welled in her eyes and she swallowed as she choked back a sob, then she grew still. Something had changed in her in that instant, something that terrified her. Her mind was abuzz like she'd sipped from her father's prized alcohol collection, except she felt more alive and alert than she'd ever felt. And she wanted  _more_  of it.

She languidly peered back at her bleeding host, her still facade hiding the inner battle beneath her surface. She revelled in its taste. It was like a part of her knew she was supposed to drink it, but she also knew that doing so wasn't right. It was disgusting and abhorrent! What did that make her? What was she becoming? Something inside her barked at her, silencing her principles and sense of reason. All that mattered was what she needed now.

Elizabeth breathed and closed her eyes as she opened her mouth, allowing him to flow into her. With each draught of blood she consumed, the link between them grew stronger, allowing Spike to feel her bloodlust enrapture her and sense her newfound love for the taste. Before long, she was drinking with a slight desperation as her hands clutched at him firmly.

"All right, that's enough," Spike said, watching as her bluish skin returned to a youthful glow. She didn't seem to hear him as her wiry fingers twined tighter around his forearm, keeping him tethered as she pulled him closer. "I said enough," Spike said a little louder, sounding slightly out of breath. He grew lightheaded as he felt his blood drain out of him; if she didn't stop now, he feared he would be the victim of death. With a growl, he smashed her back against the headboard with his free hand.

Elizabeth yelped and her eyes finally snapped open.

Spike unclasped himself from her loosened hold. "Are you bloody  _deaf?_  I told you to stop! And when I tell you to do something, you bloody well better listen!" he hissed.

Elizabeth whimpered as new tears sprang to her eyes. Even without him berating her, she'd wanted to stop, but the voice inside her had been so enticing.

 _Ignore him. Keep drinking_ , it had said.

Her tears finally slipped down her face as his look of disapproval persisted. But she wasn't crying for his sake. It was because of the realisation that she had drunk blood—his blood…  _demon_  blood. She felt even more disgusted with herself because it had excited her and made her feel elated. She hung her head in shame as her body wracked with sobs.

What was she becoming…? She needed answers.

Spike scowled at her before releasing his hold and examining the gash on his wrist. Ragged as it was, there was little to no bleeding. It would require some healing, but nothing that some blood couldn't cure. Now that he was nearly depleted of it himself, Spike's urge to feed was even more powerful.

"If you want more," he planted his feet on the floor and stood, "we go…" Spike trailed off as he wobbled and lost his balance, "hunt," he said as he plopped back down on the bed. Looking slightly miserable, he shut his eyes for a moment. "Come on, then!" he said, goading himself to stand properly. With a slap of both thighs, he shoved himself off the bed. For a moment, he stood upright, then he took a deep breath as the room spun around him. He blinked to let the motion pass as he took a step towards the bedpost and placed a hand against it for momentary support. Clearing his throat, he looked over his shoulder at Elizabeth.

She glanced back up at him as the last of her silent tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Are you hungry for more?" he asked.

_Blood and Answers._

Elizabeth sat up attentively. She nodded.

┼†‡

The night air helped.

Spike looked around him, eager to find anything to replenish the vitality he had lost. With a sigh, he paused and darted a glance over his shoulder to see Elizabeth lingering behind with her gloved hands nervously clasped in front of her.

She was now fully clothed in a pretty violet dress that Drusilla had picked. Drusilla had also styled her hair to match hers, with ringlets framing the sides of her face and thick curls draping her back. Elizabeth's listless gaze slowly trailed up to Spike's having noticed his motionless legs; she stopped in her tracks and her back straightened before she quickly averted her eyes.

Spike let out a sigh and turned back around as he kept vigilant to his surroundings. There was a scarcity of nightlife with shops now closed, save for the drunkards, whores, and homeless. The more privileged were ferried across the cobblestones within the safety of their carriages, oblivious to what lurked in the night. Spike trekked onward, scanning the streets for an easy target.

"The one and only lesson you need: you see what you like," he eyed a maid rushing past, "you take it." With a snarl, he transformed and sprinted after her. Similar to Elizabeth's attack, he dragged her into the shadows of the closest alley and sank his teeth in as soon as they were out of view.

Elizabeth stood idly behind, being witness to his crime. Her eyes were hardened and her soft lips appeared thinner as she drew them taut. What did he mean that that was the only lesson she would need to know? She was simmering. The sound of the woman's long and shrill cry only added to her burning flames, but it was quickly drowned out by the sound of hooves and a carriage clattering by. She forced herself to move forward, quickening her pace as she turned into the alley to see him snapping the woman's neck.

It was better to be safe than accidentally siring another, Spike reasoned. He had made it a quick kill this time, the thirst driving him to ravenous appetite. Dropping the body without much thought, he straightened out his coat and noted that his wound had shrunk, the once gaping slash now resembling a shallow scratch. He gave a small nod of satisfaction before turning to face his new student and adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. "See how easy it was? Now, pick one," he instructed. He was curious to see who would be her first choice.

Elizabeth kept her focus on the woman, merely nodding to indicate she had heard his words. That was her just hours before, and now she was about to do the same to someone else.

Spike walked past her, back onto the welcoming main street. Slowly, Elizabeth turned and followed in his footsteps.

She kept up with his pace as they passed some vagrants, feeling like she was drifting in a world that wasn't tangible. Shutting her eyes, she took in a deep breath and reminded herself that she was only dreaming; whatever outcome she would face, she would be the one in control of it. With that in mind, the tension in her shoulders lifted and a clarity shone in her eyes when she opened them. Her smile had also returned as she offered it generously to the destitute souls that hovered by the wayside.

Then she saw  _him_.

He stood hunched over as he peered intently into a dark shop window, only to be reanimated when a young prostitute ambled by. He turned to her with a toothy leer and followed her with a bit of skirt chasing and verbose catcalling. His pursuit immediately ended after she entered a whorehouse, leaving him sour faced and bleating like a drunk.

Elizabeth's eyes were locked on him. Everything about him made her want to turn her nose up in disgust, and without realising it, she had drawn herself closer, watching as he grumbled away from the whorehouse to pick up a large stone that had turned up loose from the street. It was clear to her what he was planning to do when he began to head back to the shop window. She furrowed her brows and lifted her skirts as she quickened her pace, colliding into him from behind as a seeming incident.

The stone was throttled from his hand and skittered across the dark ground. "You bloody git! I'll 'ave you skinned alive!" he growled as he turned to her.

Elizabeth let out a startled whimper as she shrank away, her eyes large and glassy as she peered up into his snarling face.

"Oh," the man's expression immediately transformed into a sly sneer at the sight of her cowering, "did I scare you, li'l miss?"

Elizabeth shuffled backwards, only to have him clutch her by the arm. She whimpered again.

"Now, now, no need to be hasty 'ere. We haven't yet had a proper exchange of formalities. What kind of gentleman would I be wit'out at least kissin' a lady's hand?" He grinned.

She was scared. She had reacted in the heat of the moment, but all that anger and disgust that had propelled her forward had now shrivelled up inside of her as her fear overwhelmed her senses.

_Stay._

The man snatched her hand and jerked it up towards him. Elizabeth did nothing else as she watched him bend forward, keeping his eyes locked to her face as he slowly planted his puckered lips to the top of her gloved hand. He remained like that for a moment as Elizabeth felt the pressure of his lips moving like they were fondling her, and she gasped when she realised he had been probing her with his tongue.

_Stay._

She wrenched her hand away and practically shook with revulsion. Even though her entire being begged for her to flee, that one voice kept her from moving, keeping her feet planted in her spot.

This only seemed to excite the man even more. "Ah, a coy one, are we?" He grinned and loomed in closer.

With a gasp, she took a step back but kept her foot out to anchor herself in place. Her eyes darted in front of her as she fought with the idea of her next actions, though it didn't take her long to decide as she bit down on her lip. Raising her eyes to his, she drew a tentative hand to his cheek as she trembled.

The man's face split wide into an open mouthed grin as he chuckled. "I know exactly what you want," he said, turning to kiss the palm of her quivering hand.

Elizabeth grimaced, but she held her ground.

_Stay._

She kept her gaze steady with his and nodded.

The man tugged her forward by the wrist with an eagerness that was anything but romantic, obviously forgetting his plans with the cobblestone and shop window. In his excitement, he panted as he led her around the bend of a nearby building into a deserted back alley. It was dark and dank, and the stench of rot clung with persistence in the air.

Elizabeth felt the brick wall behind her as he pushed her up against it. She watched him quietly as he fumbled with the front of his trousers, wondering why she had agreed to put herself in danger a second time that night, and fearing what would happen next. She bowed her head and mumbled a prayer under her breath, hoping that He would hear her this time. When the man finally shuffled forward, she felt her terror transform into something physical, like she had swallowed a blade of ice. It ran the length of her spine, settling into her gut and sat there, and then the voice consumed her thoughts as he gripped her shoulders.

_BLOOD._

It was a voice so loud and clear, she'd believed someone had spoken it outloud next to her ear.

Things became unclear after that. Time moved forward, sounds were muffled; she felt herself moving and acting on instinct and impulsive that was beyond reason. The one thing that did remain clear was that feeling of ecstacy.

She heard a familiar moan, but realisation struck as she recognised it to be coming from herself. Elizabeth's eyes snapped open as she found herself attached feasting on the man's neck, causing her to bolt back as she shoved him away. A loud and audible crack followed when his skull collided with the brick wall, and he slid down to the ground as he gurgled and choked on his own blood. Elizabeth took a step towards him as she watched his eyelids flutter, witnessing him dying in front of her. Her gaze swept over him to see that his trousers were lowered, allowing her to reign in the guilt and regret by allowing her anger and spite to simmer again.

"Oh, God… what have I done…?" she whispered. Elizabeth put her hands to her face and flinched, feeling a foreign and malformed ridge at her brow as she explored her new visage with trembling fingers. Tears fell from her eyes as the vision of the now dead man blurred in front of her, and she let out an incongruent laugh at her own expense.

_Deserved it. Better off dead._

Elizabeth breathed and lowered her hands, feeling a calmness settle over her being; this moment of peace also seemed to reclaim her old face. It made sense, she reasoned, acting as the Hand of God. That was her calling in her life, and even though things… had taken an entirely different turn for her, her path would remain the same. It had to.

A shuffling joined her in her moment of revelation, but she hadn't even bothered to glance up. She didn't have to.

Spike stood in front of the crumpled body as he slid a couple of fingers along the large spot of blood splattered on the bricks. "A little sloppy, but," he sucked the red off one of his fingers, making a smacking sound with his lips as he withdrew it, "bravo." He did the same with his other finger. Spike had strayed a healthy distance away as he'd watched her fish the man from the streets, his wary observations having turned into something that resembled mild satisfaction. He paused, and with a tilt of his head, he squinted his eyes at her as he leaned in closer to peer at her face. "What? Are you…  _crying?_ " He scowled, his partial approval being wiped clean from his features.

Elizabeth raised her head and merely looked at him as a swollen tear trickled down her cheek.

"I will not have you weeping after every single kill," he said, bordering on scolding. "You've really put a damper on what started out as a fine night, you know that? Bloody selfish little wench you are." He walked away from her briskly. "Must have been a bloody delight to your mother and father, too," he added with a sarcastic snort.

Her brows drew together as she yanked out a handkerchief from her sleeve and hastily wiped the tears and blood off her face. With another deep breath, Elizabeth straightened her back and righted her skirts, leaving the soiled sheet to fall over the corpse as she joined her new keeper.

They walked in silence as Elizabeth trailed a step behind, afraid of offending him any further. She moved to the side to allow a carriage to pass by, but it only slowed and stopped next to them. Not realising that her sire had stopped to face it, she happened to notice before colliding into him, and abruptly halted.

Spike didn't recognise the vehicle, but he kept a look of wariness about it like he was expecting something. As soon as the door swung open, he was met with the sight of his sires.

"How was your first hunt, little dove?" Drusilla asked as she extended a hand to Elizabeth.

Clasping it, Elizabeth allowed herself to be helped inside but only offered a sullen glance and a small shake of her head in return. She seated herself next to the Irishman and turned her attention out the window as she waited for her sire to enter.

"Not sure if this one's cut out for being evil and taking lives." Spike heaved himself in and plopped down next to Drusilla as he shut the door behind him. Angelus gave a knock on the wall of the caravan and it mounted forward. "If I hadn't heard her blubbering from before, I swear she was mute," he commented offhandedly, snuggling closer into his lover.

Elizabeth sat rigid in her silence.

"I recall meeting a meek, unassertive individual—wet behind the ears with an unhealthy fixation with mummy dearest. Ain't that right, William the Bloody?" Angelus smirked, his words striking a nerve with Spike.

" _Clearly_  things have changed for the better, thanks to a certain special someone," Spike said, his strained undertone changing to doting and affection as he turned to Drusilla. "And you know to never mention my mother," he added with some resignation.

"Still a softy, even now." Angelus chuckled.

"Never mind that. Where are we heading?" Spike shifted the conversation as he peered out the window.

Angelus turned to Elizabeth with a small smile. "Have ye ever been to a ball?"

Elizabeth glanced at him from the corner of her eye before realising he was speaking to her. She turned to him clumsily and fluttered her eyelids out of embarrassment. "No, I haven't," she responded softly with her gaze lowered.

"You're sure to forget God there when the opportunity of sin feels so right, Elizabeth."

She flushed at this and felt knots in her stomach.

Spike blinked at his sire; it seemed as though he had missed something.

Angelus immediately took notice of the look of speculation on his face. "Don't you know, William? You've sired an aspiring nun." He cracked up as Spike's eyes widened in dumbfound surprise.

"I—what?"

"Ah, we're here." Angelus threw open the door and stepped out, leaving a befuddled Spike in mid-sentence.

The three pursued him into a grandiose mansion where they were greeted and escorted inside by a manservant. A soft orchestra of strings played, accompanied by the steady rustle of dresses moving around in slow dance, glasses clinking and filling with drink, and the persistent hum of chatter.

"I'll leave you to your devices," Angelus said, eyeing a group of giggling women with quivering fans hiding their lower faces. He slipped away, blending easily in the guise of a socialite.

Spike watched him briefly before turning to Drusilla as she offered her hand to him. He took it without hesitation and followed her to the dance floor.

This left Elizabeth to fend for herself. She glanced around the grand ballroom in awe, but she felt out of place, even though she was among people of her own class. Taking a glass of wine that was offered to her from one of the servants, she found an area that was more secluded and seated herself on a settee.

┼†‡

Spike and Drusilla paraded around the dance floor like a storm, their steps too swift for the music, and their movements deemed too intimate and salacious. Patrons looked to them with disapproval, gasping in horror as they scattered from their trajectory, and muttering things of disbelief. The pair only laughed all the merrier at their reactions, and Spike finally felt like he had a moment of peace alone with his love.

"I know you've taken a liking to having a pet around, Dru, but don't get too used to her," Spike said as he pulled her closer to him. He paused as an idea suddenly occurred to him. "Oh, my love, my dark queen, my sweet and succulent plum," he flashed a charming smile and fluttered his lashes flirtatiously, "do you love me? Would you…  _kill_  her for me?" Spike asked innocently as he canted his head towards Elizabeth's direction. Angelus may have commanded Spike not to kill her, but Drusilla remained unaffected by it.

Drusilla looked across the room to see Elizabeth sipping wine and watching the people around her. "Mousy little thing, isn't she?" She turned back to Spike and furrowed her brows. "I would like to keep her, William; I haven't had a new toy to play with for days. And she seems more willing to be dressed by my hand than Darla does," she said with a pout.

"Then I take that it's a no?" Spike's expression mirrored his lover's, his lower lip jutting out sullenly. "All right, for you, then. We can keep her," he paused briefly, "for now," he added for clarity.

"Soon little dovey will learn to fly on her own. Give her time," she continued. Drusilla pressed herself against him and smoothed a hand over the back of his neck. "I know something you don't know," she sang in a whisper by his ear, "little birdy enjoyed her kill. She may have wept, but her eyes twinkled. Shh…"

"So the shy nun's been hiding her true feelings?" Spike laughed with amusement.

"Even the prettiest of Easter eggs has to crack some time." Drusilla clutched the back of his neck with both hands as she peered at him with mirth. "Watching it will be such a delight!" She let out a roll of laughter and spun in his arms.

"Let's just  _pray_  the little bird hatches from her egg a little sooner," Spike replied a little dryly.

┼†‡

Spike had actually enjoyed his time at the ball—having the pleasure to pick from the buffet of upper class society and sharing memorable moments with Drusilla. He'd also caught glimpses of Angelus making flashy little scenes as he often did, but Elizabeth was thankfully out of his sights. As the night drew to a close, he was reminded of the thorn in his side when his sire had the carriage readied.

The four assumed their former spots, though this time, Elizabeth kept her gaze out the window for an entirely different reason. Throughout the ride, the caravan was filled with Spike's giggling as he necked Drusilla, causing his progeny to chew on her lip as her cheeks reddened.

"We're making a detour," Angelus commented, peering up at Spike with an all-knowing look.

Spike paused to pry his lips off of Drusilla's neck. "Oh?" He observed Angelus' expression before fully turning to face him in realisation. "Ohhh, riiight," he said, stretching out his vowels; he looked at Elizabeth as a trickle of a smile formed at the corners of his lips.

Elizabeth turned to glance between them, feeling unsettled. Before she could muster the courage to ask what they meant by their small exchange, the carriage slowed to a stop and Angelus had the door swinging open once more.

Spike hopped out and looked back inside at Elizabeth expectantly. "Well, come on then, time's a wastin'!"

She stood slowly and hesitated when she was shoved from behind without warning. Elizabeth let out a startled cry as Spike caught her before she could hit the ground.

"A little more warning next time, will you, mate?" Spike hissed at a laughing Angelus.

"Time is precious, William," Angelus replied, glancing up at the sky. "I suspect it'll be dawn in a couple o' hours or so." He looked to Spike and grinned. "Think ye'll be able to dig a grave that fast?"

Elizabeth looked back at him with panic-filled eyes as he shut the door.

"Angelus, you sodding pouf!" Spike growled.

"Better start diggin' now, William," Angelus gave a couple of raps against the side of the door and the carriage slowly began to move forward, "before the sun catches up to ye." The sound of his laughter grew distant as the carriage clattered away.

"Leave me to do all the dirty work, will you? I'll have her in her grave  _and_  your head on a post before sunrise, you bleeding tosser!" With a heavy sigh, Spike continued to heft Elizabeth in his arms as she struggled in his firm embrace.

They were abandoned on the side of a dirt road, next to what appeared to be an open field. Spike moved towards it, the view eerie and blanketed with a low-draping mist; the sound of gravel crunched loudly beneath the soles of his boots. "No worries, love," he explained, making sure to handle the situation delicately, "we're just going to bury you."

Elizabeth eyes bulged and she gasped, desperate to break loose from his hold even more as she struggled with fervor. This time he would finish the job, she thought. The monster would finally kill her. As much as she tried, she could not change her dream to her will; she was now a spectacle to an unfolding nightmare.

Venturing farther in, it was made apparent that they were in a graveyard as the mist rolled away to reveal headstones that popped out like randomly skewed teeth.

Spike shifted her weight within his arms, feeling her slip a bit with all of her struggling. "Best to find a fresh one," he began, looking around for a mound of dirt, "makes it easier having the earth loosened up and all. Oh," he spotted a patch a few metres away and shuffled over, "here we go." He set her down but kept his arms wrapped around her as he made her face the headstone. "You'll be sharing a bed with 'Margaret'," he said from behind her ear. "Aren't you excited to be at your own funeral?" He laughed.

Elizabeth trembled in his hold as her shallow breathing added to the swirling mist around her.

"The demon's already inside of you, but now the body needs to die. We've all been there, love," he looked down at the grave, "and then we live forever."

Elizabeth swallowed hard before attempting to speak: "I… I've already died… so how does my body die when you've already… killed me?" she asked quietly, trying to make sense of everything.

Spike was slightly taken aback at her unexpected inquiry. "So she speaks!" he said in a mocking tone. "Well, bloody hell if I know how it works," he said with indifference. "The heart's already stopped, but the rest of the body needs to catch up—veins, flesh, and guts—you know, all the warm and wobbly bits stuffed inside," he had his chin pressed against her shoulder as his hand slid over to rest on her abdomen; Elizabeth tensed at this and she gasped softly, "those need to die, too."

Regardless of the circumstances, Elizabeth felt her face flush.

"I suppose when it gets to the point when the body knows when to start rotting, the vampire blood works its magic so that you don't."

"'Vampire…'?" Elizabeth echoed softly.

"Maybe it's possession from the demon inside of you or the bloody hand of God," he shrugged, "I'm not the one to ask; I'm not the  _prat_  who wrote the blooming handbook. All I know is," he grinned and howled up at the night sky, " _it feels bloody brilliant!_ "

Sensing that she had calmed down, Spike decided to put a little faith in her. "So, when I let go, promise you won't flee."

Elizabeth nodded.

He paused, as it occurred to him that her doing so would probably work in his favour. "Hmm, or you could…" he said more to himself but loud enough for her to hear.

Once she was released, Elizabeth took a step away from him and let out a sigh, scared of the idea of fleeing, and scared that she stood in place. Either choice would not be an outcome she would embrace, so she chose the one that would cause her sire less hostility towards her.

Spike looked around him and found a groundskeeper's shed in the near distance. He knocked the door down easily with his boot and returned with a couple of shovels. Tossing one at her feet, he took to digging at the still loose dirt.

"Surely you've got a pair of working hands." He paused to look at her before peering up at the dark sapphire sky; he could feel it getting lighter with each passing second. "Dawn will be here within another hour so chop, chop!"

Elizabeth picked up the shovel and clumsily pitched it into the dark mound, finding it difficult digging with her draping gown and slippery gloves. She resorted to peeling her gloves off and managed a much firmer grip on the handle, but there was little she could do but manage to work around her rustling skirts.

The pair dug side by side with the sound of the spades scraping against earth and raining soil as it was tossed into the air. After several minutes had passed, both had struck something hard at approximately the same time. They stopped to glance at each other.

Spike drove the shovel back down for good measure and a loud hollow thud resounded back. He looked up to see that they had managed to carve themselves into a six foot deep pit. "Well, looks like my work here is done," he said with a sniff, scraping aside some of the dirt with his boot to reveal the top of the wooden casket. He then tossed the shovel up and out of the pit, soon to clamber after it.

Elizabeth watched him with wide eyes before he disappeared from view.

He reappeared with the shovel in his clutches as he gazed down into the grave at her. "Rest in peace, love," he tossed a patch of dirt at her, causing her to gasp, "we'll see you again at nightfall," he said with a grin.

Panic began to rise in her with each shovelful of dirt that was tossed down at her. Elizabeth heaved and braced herself against the farthest corner, away from the raining earth. "A dream… it is only a dream…" she reminded herself. With a shaky breath, she slowly crept to her knees and crawled to the centre of the grave before lying down on top of the coffin. She shut her eyes tightly and clenched her teeth as she felt the cool dirt pile on top of her. Trying to reassure herself that she was only having a nightmare, she would find herself the next morning in the comforts of her bed. This helped to lessen her fears and she managed to coax herself into sleep.

┼†‡

Spike had filled the hole up much more quickly than when he had dug it, despite having only himself to rely on. He had kicked in clumps of moist earth as the surrounding pile around the ditch grew smaller. Then when the casket, girl, and hole were completely covered, he gave an affirming pat with the spade on the domed dirt, and dropped the tool.

"Bloody Angelus didn't even bother to give me a lift," Spike grumbled, glancing anxiously at the brightening sky. He flipped the collar of his coat up to protect the nape of his neck and quickened his pace home, racing against the sun's rays as he stumbled through the doorway with steam billowing behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please stop reading here to wait for the next revised and updated chapter of this story (trust me, it'll be a lot better). If you don't want to wait for the next post and don't mind all the errors and bits of non-continuity, read on. You've been warned.


	2. Day 2: So We'll Go No More a Roving

Sleep welcomed Spike happily between plush sheets and the bed that he and Drusilla shared. His head lay nestled at her motionless chest; hearing no heartbeat and feeling her cold skin against his soothed him. Ever since that time he had walked in on Angelus and Drusilla being intimate, he was anxious leaving them alone together.

It wasn't as though love didn't exist amongst demons, it just… had a looser definition for them. But, perhaps, with exception to Spike. He was too emotional, too perceptive to his and others' sensibilities. Angelus had noticed that about him early on, giving him enough reason for that transgression to happen between him and Drusilla, a little 'incentive' to help drive that bit of humanity out of Spike. Not that it had worked; it just made him all the more angry. For Drusilla, she proclaimed that Spike was hers and that she loved him, but she would not turn away if she was properly seduced. Knowing she shared her affections with him and Angelus- the vampire he secretly admired- made Spike feel all the more betrayed.

Aside from his mother, Drusilla was the first and only woman to ever reciprocate his love. And just like when he was a man, he remained devoted to the people he cherished; she was the only one he had eyes for. He did not know why that part of him didn't die with his new life as a vampire, as he saw that to be a very human thing. So, as a means to keep Drusilla by his side, he buried his truer feelings and threw himself into the thrills of mischief and killing. He didn't like the blurred lines between their relationships but tolerated it, because Drusilla would eventually return to him, and Angelus would always be someone he looked up to.

It was some time in the late afternoon when Spike woke, allowing him more than enough time to fix himself some tea and biscuits- something he was too accustomed to to shake from his former life- before returning to the cemetery to fetch Elizabeth. He set out as soon as the last rays left the sky.

┼†‡

Spike sat on top of the groundskeeper's bruised and battered body, having had himself a spontaneous kafuffle as he waited for Elizabeth to wake from her slumber.

"Rise and moonshine," he called out at Margaret's grave, a hand cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice and for dramatic flair. His hair was tousled; clothes rumpled with fresh dirt, blood, and grass stains; and knuckles bloodied from the dead man that lay beneath him. Spike lapped at the back of his hand like a cat then smacked his lips audibly several times to help him taste better, "Too old for my liking. Needs to be younger," he concluded.

Lying on top of the coffin, Elizabeth woke from her trance-like slumber at the sound of his call. She opened her blue eyes to an indigo sky as a small smile appeared on her lips. With a dirt-smudged face and clumps of soil in her hair, she rose from her grave, coughing as she took in her first breaths of fresh air as an official reborn. Giving a salient yet grateful smile to her sire, she shook the dirt from her hair and slightly stumbled, being lightheaded from hunger.

"Someone looks well rested," Spike observed, sensing a change about her. "Well, daddy Spike has returned to fetch daughter dearest, as promised," one he surprisingly kept. "Come, you must be feeling peckish," he sprang on his feet and offered his hand, "we'll have someone in your belly soon enough." Elizabeth took his hand with a nod as she steadied herself on his arm.

┼†‡

They found themselves roaming the streets in the heart of London. Considering it was still early evening, the sight of their dress and unkempt appearance attracted a few odd stares, especially with dirt streaking Elizabeth's face. Spike didn't seem to mind so much. If he was met with a dirty look, he'd turn to them with a low and threatening growl, and send the poor soul off and scampering.

"You've got your whores, virgin girls, the poor, and miners," Spike narrated, seeing those different types of individuals before them, "bankers, the sick and nearly dead," he sniffed as a sick and elderly man ambled by with a cane, "and even vermin," Spike turned his body along as a dog trotted by to follow after the man. Turning to face Elizabeth, Spike began to march backwards as his arms swung by his sides, "So much to choose from, so little night."

Not far ahead, music and uproarious laughter could be heard emanating from a pub.

Spike turned around, "Why, hello there…." Peering at it curiously, he slowly gravitated towards the glow of the dimly lit windows like a moth drawn to a streetlamp. He pushed at the heavy door with force, sending it swinging back against the wall as a loud thwack interrupted the atmosphere of the establishment. The ambient chatter was temporarily dampened as all heads turned to see who had caused such a raucous. Spike grinned widely and strode in, chest puffed and a swagger in his step.

Elizabeth hurried behind him. Following him into the pub, she shrank at the debauchery that was taking place. Alive or undead, she did not belong there. She sighed as she followed her sire in such a place of squalor, when she felt someone suddenly yank her in from behind. She gasped as she was spun around and pulled in towards a tall young man with the build of a smith.

"Pretty one, you are. I wonder what lies under that dirty dress of yours," he smirked. The young vampire's face reddened with anger and embarrassment as she used her new found strength to push him back from her and hurried to her sire's side.

Inclining her head to his direction, she had finally chosen her pray for the night: "Him," she said softly. Though she was selfless and kind, she already had a victim type- killers, lecherous men, robbers- anyone that was a horrible sinner and caused others pain. She would rid the world of them. But beneath the surface of her noble and virtuous resolve was a glint of excitement that Drusilla spoke of.

Spike turned his head to hear the reticent girl better. Glancing to where Elizabeth indicated this 'him' caused him to gleam his teeth in a broad grin as he spotted the male.

"Go on, love, go play with your new toy. He seems eager for your company," Spike said, turning to her. "No need for concern, I shan't be far," he gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and sent her off towards the other male.

With a determined nod, the young vampire walked back to the eager young man. Without hesitation, he pulled her into him with a flirtatious yet rough nature.

A sweet and shy look entered Elizabeth's eyes as she looked up at him and whispered, "Take me from here."

┼†‡

Spike ventured farther into the pub to reach the bar, wedging himself between two patrons seated there, "A pint of beer, barkeeper!" he proclaimed loudly as he slapped his hand down on the well-worn wooden surface.

"Watchit!" the ruddy man next to him growled as some beer sloshed out from his mug. Spike eyed him warily- a man who appeared in his late thirties to early forties with strong arms, thick legs, and a robust torso. By the appearance of his dress, he was a working class man, if the way he spoke wasn't any indication.

"What exactly am I lookin' at?" Spike chuckled, trying to elicit a rise out of the other.

The man turned his body around to better face him, his bushy brows furrowing, "Why don' you take your lily-faced wank-" Spike interrupted the disgruntled man's discourse with a raised finger as his beverage was served to him. The vampire continued by drinking from the metal mug, only to cause the man to grow all the more belligerent, "You fink you can com' in 'ere wit' your money and treat me like a fool?" he bellowed; the stool screeched as it was pushed back. Standing, he towered over Spike by several inches.

Spike swung his head back as he downed the last drops then slammed the mug back down onto the counter, only to have the drunk male glower in his face. He burped loudly in response to the man's angry expression, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and giggled. Turning around, he cemented his elbows against the counter and leaned back.

"You're blocking my view, mate," he said simply, grinning as he brought his face in close. And that was the breaking point. Not a moment more, the towering drunk took a swing at him, only to completely miss when Spike swiftly moved his head to the side; this caused him to topple over the counter as he lost his centre of gravity. Spike took advantage of this and smashed the man's half-empty mug against the side of his head.

"That's better!" Spike laughed, watching the once bellowing beast grow still. Turning to look in the direction where Elizabeth stood, he brought the bloodied and dented mug to his lips and sipped at what little beer remained, "Mm, a treat!" he quipped in surprise, tasting blood mingle with beer. "Barkeeper, bring me another!" he yelled over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Elizabeth's back as she slipped out with her new found plaything close behind.

┼†‡

Elizabeth walked out with the young male where she was led to an isolated corner in the dark street. Once there, she was pushed against the wall.

"So trusting for such a small girl. Should have stayed next to your keeper, girl," he said with a low chuckle, reaching up to rip the collar of her dress.

Elizabeth glanced down as a slight giggle came from her, "You shouldn't have done that…."

"So, you like it rough, do you?"

"How many girls have been in my place…? How many have you hurt?"

The young man took a step back, unnerved by her response, "Enough talk." He growled as he gripped her neck, only to see her face had changed into that of a monster as she raised her head.

"You will never do it again," she said, spinning them around as she reversed their roles.

Slamming him into the wall, she pulled him close and whispered, " _You_  like it rough…  _do_  you?" Biting harshly into his neck, she drank with the same merciless hunger that she had when she drank from her sire's wrist.

┼†‡

It had only been a brief moment since Spike had attacked the other bar patron, but the man stirred and had managed to heave himself back onto his feet. Though he was bleeding rather profusely from the injury on his head, he lunged at Spike from the side and wrapped his thick arms around his body from behind.

Spike started to laugh as he was lifted up, his feet no longer touching the floor, "The ol' sport's still got some life in 'im after all!" Spike threw his head forward before snapping it back, smashing into the man's face several times until his grip was loosened and he was set free. The bleeding male had his hand braced against the bar to maintain his balance as Spike spun around to face him. "Well, what are you waiting for?" a smug smile was plastered on Spike's face. Raising his arms, he spread them out as he motioned with open palms, fingers beckoning towards him, "Come at me!" he taunted, cocking his head to the side. The man growled and stepped forward, throwing a fist at Spike's temple.

The vampire was throttled and thrown into the midst of patrons seated at a table, only to have his fall broken by the prostitute that sat with them. "How about I steal you away after I've dealt with this glormy poncer?" he grinned up at her, his bruising face at the appropriate level of her cleavage.

"Oy! She is to service me first!" one of the men from the table stood.

"We'll see about that," Spike replied, moving to his feet swiftly to punch him in his nether regions, "if you can manage to get the little fella working," he said into the man's ear; the man was doubled over, audibly groaning.

Spike was making fast enemies there, as surrounding men began to gather around him, "Are we havin' a dance? Who's the lucky doll to get picked first? Huh?" he laughed. The first man with the bleeding head moved forward and swung again. This time, Spike dodged and countered with his own punches. He grabbed him by the collar, railing his fist into his face till skin and lips cracked, and flesh was bruised and covered with free-flowing blood. Spike released his collar and let him collapse hard on the floor; he was out cold.

"Who's next?" Spike offered, the bruise darkening on his left cheekbone. He didn't bother to show his vampire face; relying on that inhuman strength would have made it too easy for him. He wanted the thrill of having his fists collide into soft bodies and hard bone, feel the rush of adrenaline, knowing that he'd get beaten too. It was a sick and twisted thing, revelling in inflicting pain, just as much as receiving it. He had become a sadomasochist; it was a part of his insanity that he liked to nurture.

Spike picked off each man, one by one who came at him. Bodies were thrown against tables, drinks were smashed to the floor, bones crunched by his hand and boot.

Without warning, a chair was used against him when he had turned away. The force of the blow caused the chair to explode across Spike's back and sent splinters of wood flying. Spike paused to glance over his shoulder at the damage, feeling pain radiating from the side of his lower back. Sticking out through his coat like an oversized thorn was one of the wood fragments. Spike took ahold of it and yanked it out, growling at the sharp pain and his growing anger.

" _That_  was a mistake!" he hissed, his demon side now making an appearance.

"Demon!" someone shouted. People began to scream as they looked at him in terror. Some were frozen in fear, others fled up the stairs or out the door.

Spike clenched the splintered piece firmly in his grasp as his blood dripped from the tip and red painted his coat. "I think you left this behind," he sauntered towards the one who had been the cause of his injury and ill temperament. The man was too shaken to utter a sound and had only managed to shift a couple of inches away. Spike grabbed him by the front of his shirt and plunged the wooden shank into his gut, "There, that's where it belongs," he smiled, fangs and jagged teeth bared. Blood gurgled from the man's mouth as Spike sank his teeth into his neck and drank deeply.

┼†‡

Elizabeth stood over the dead body and found an empty bottle to place in his hand, making it appear like he had gotten into a fight. It was then that she heard a commotion coming from within the pub. Walking by the window, she looked inside to see her sire taking on all of the patrons, leaving pain in his wake as he killed a large man in plain view. With widened eyes, she retreated back to the alley to wait for him as she looked up at the sky, anxiously waiting for him to come before they were spotted or have someone call the police.

┼†‡

Spike let the man roll away from his arm as the body landed on the dirty floor with a resounding thump.

"Barkeeper!" Spike yelled, spinning around to face the bar, "You still owe me that pint!"

There was no movement at first, then, very slowly, a head crept up from behind the counter.

Spike ambled over, righted a turned over stool, and flopped down, "C'mon, I don't have all night!" he persisted, growing impatient. The barkeeper scuttled towards the tap, doing as he was told as quickly as possible, and with shaking hands, brought the mug to his demanding patron. Spike grabbed the vessel from his grasp, sloshing some of the contents over his hand, then smiled, fang-toothed and all, "Thanks, mate. You serve a good ale." He threw back his head and gulped down his drink.

The barkeeper looked on in fear and confusion, "Th-thank you, sir," he stuttered. With a startled cry, he cowered and flung his arms over his head as Spike stood from his seat, waiting in anticipation for something to happen. When nothing did, he slowly opened his eyes to see him walking away towards the door. The barkeeper sighed in relief, only to be alerted of the sound of glass breaking. Spike had taken some of the oil lanterns and smashed them against the wooden doors, causing the spilt oil to cling to the grainy fixtures, and allowing for the greedy flames to climb quicker and farther up towards the ceiling.

"H-help!" the barkeeper shrieked, only to have his voice drown out when the door shut behind the demon.

┼†‡

Spike snapped his neck to the side to rid himself of an annoying crick as he allowed his visage to morph back into a human man. He continued to walk along the promenade as voices around him began to shriek ' _Fire! Fire!'_ , but he remained calm; he was bloody, bruised, and battered, yet satisfied.

He spotted Elizabeth looking around anxiously as she stood waiting in a nearby alleyway. She finally noticed him as he approached.

"Well, lookit here!" he smiled, crouching over to inspect her set up; the worry on her face lessened as he spoke. Spike straightened himself up, grimacing a bit in the process, but still maintained a smile, "You should have been there. Had the time of my life!" he laughed. "Wish Dru had been there with me," he said a little more wistfully as he looked to the sky. He walked alongside Elizabeth, calm in the chaos of screaming people running amok as hot and bright flames consumed the pub in their backdrop, "What does it feel like now? Do you hunger for it, yet? For the kill?" he grinned.

Elizabeth looked down at the man's body; she looked confused, "I don't yearn to kill… everyone…," she said as she stepped over his legs.

"Whatever suits your fancy, love," Spike shrugged with indifference.

┼†‡

They had managed to return home safely. Spike casually strolled in through the front door, but didn't get far before he was assaulted by Angelus. The taller vampire slammed him against a wall, his fingers grasping tightly onto the front of Spike's lapels.

"You burnt down half of the city!" Angelus hissed, raising Spike higher off the floor.

"Just a pub," Spike corrected him.

"The fire spread onto the neighbouring buildings; more than half of the street was consumed. They're still trying to put out the flames!" Angelus slammed him back against the wall to prove his emphasis. Spike responded by smiling down at his disgruntled friend, amused by his temper.

"Guess it makes me more memorable," he chuckled. "Oh, piss off, Angelus. Jealous that I've raised the ante?"

Angelus tossed Spike halfway across the room, causing him to skid several feet away from where he landed, "I warned you about drawing too much attention to us,  _Willy_ ," he stomped towards him, "there have been witnesses!"

Spike placed an arm behind his head and reclined back, "We'll get 'em by nightfall; all in a good night's work," he said with nonchalance.

Drusilla walked into the room and smiled with amusement. Humming as she passed Angelus, she gave him a small pat on the shoulder before walking to Elizabeth.

"Happy birthday, granddaughter," she said, hugging her close. "You need a proper bath; soil does not suit you." Taking her by the hand, Drusilla began to lead her out of the room, "Did you enjoy yourself? Come, tell grandmother all about it."

┼†‡

Elizabeth sat by the tub when she had finished with her bath, now covered in a clean nightgown and shawl in lieu of dirt.

"I am so confused… 'Thou shalt not kill' is a sacred law but… I cannot help but feel… he…"

"Deserved it?" Drusilla smiled as she looked to her. "He did- they all do, little dove. You may not accept it now, but they do," she said in her ear as she brushed Elizabeth's hair. "Death made you so pretty," she said as she pleated Elizabeth's hair into one long strand. "There, all done now. I will get you some clothes while William cleans up his little mess." Drusilla kissed Elizabeth's cheek like a child would her favourite doll, then left.

Elizabeth got up and wandered to her room. Curious to see what lay hidden there, she opened a drawer to find a bible. She reached for it, happy to see something from her previous life, only to yank her hand back in pain when her fingers touched the cover. She held her hand protectively to her chest then glanced down to see that her fingertips had taken on the appearance of being scalded by hot water. With a heavy heart, she closed the drawer and sighed. She listened to the arguing that continued from the other room as she lay in bed.

┼†‡

"You need to learn your place," Angelus warned, his voice quiet and dangerous. He stepped past Spike, leaving the other to stare after him.

"I've heard that before already. Hey, where do you think you're going?" Spike was alarmed by the sudden change in Angelus' demeanor. He'd expected more of a scrap or some broken furniture, but Angelus seemed calm and collected- a sign of impending danger.

Angelus stormed into Elizabeth's room and yanked her from her bed, causing her to yelp in surprise. "Pretty young t'ing," he sniffed at her collar before glancing up into her eyes, "Still a virgin, aren't you?" Trembling, her eyes widened with fear. Spike had clamoured after him in quick pursuit, coming upon the scene of Angelus tossing Elizabeth on the bed and climbing on top of her.

"P-please… no…!" she pleaded. She struggled in vain as Angelus pinned her arms by the sides of her head.

"What are you doing?" Spike's eyes widened, seeing the familiar stance of a memory from before.

"What does it matter to you?" Angelus glanced at him from over his shoulder as Elizabeth squirmed beneath him. "Should make no difference to have this pretty little filly sullied if you wanted her dead," Angelus replied. Elizabeth's eyes were squeezed shut as she began to cry. It was true that Spike didn't care for her; all he saw her for was a quick morsel. But as he stood there, watching Angelus start to tear at her clothes, he could not bear to stand idle.

"Get off her!" Spike took ahold of Angelus' shoulders and threw him back against the far wall. Angelus began to chuckle as he sat from his stupor. "Don't you touch her, Angelus!" Spike stood in front of the bed, an arm out as a protective barricade, "I was the one who sired her; she's  _mine!"_

"Still so soft, Willy boy," Angelus sniggered, standing to his full height. "She wouldn't be in this bed if Dru hadn't found her. Remember, it was  _I_  who ordered you to keep her," Angelus said, his voice low as he spoke into Spike's ear, "and now, I'll take it back. You may kill her as you see fit." He withdrew and patted Spike on the shoulder, then left the room. Spike glared, his eyes never leaving his face till he was out of sight, then slammed the door shut. Elizabeth sat up and pulled her shawl protectively over her chest as her body wracked with uncontrollable sobs.

"That bloody wanker!" Spike took ahold of a chair and tossed it on its side. Elizabeth flinched. Spike continued to growl and paced a bit before turning towards the bed. Slumping down, he sat hunched over on the edge, his hands forming into a loose steeple by his mouth. He was quiet in his turbulent thoughts; he honestly didn't know what to do. The urge to kill Elizabeth was so strong before, but now that he was given the chance to do so, he didn't care. But it wasn't just indifference that made him reluctant. Seeing Angelus threatening her, someone that  _he_ had sired, made his blood boil. Angelus had told him that they could take whatever they wanted, and that nothing truly belonged to them, but this would be different. It was  _Spike's_  blood that ran through her veins; it was  _he_  that drank from her. He'd even gone through the tedious process of burying her- what could make it clearer that she belonged to him? Angelus had a control on Drusilla as he had sired her, but he would not take Elizabeth.

Spike gave a little sigh and sat up. He turned to look at Elizabeth as she cowered in fear, "You all right?" He paused. "I'm not gonna kill you, got it?" he said with some annoyance. Her sobs quieted as she trembled in her spot.

Turning to him, she nodded, "Y-yes… I'm all right," her timid voice now hoarse from crying. Slowly getting up, Elizabeth walked to her wardrobe and pulled out a dress slip to replace her torn nightgown. She changed behind a dressing screen before returning to the bed; her cheeks were flushed red from fear and embarrassment. Lying down on her side, she tucked her knees up towards her chest.

Spike tried to get more comfortable by removing his dirty coat- still coated in muddy filth, alcohol, and blood- and stuffed it into a ball. He placed it beneath his head against the side of the bed as he slipped off onto the floor, then lay back against his makeshift pillow.

"Thank you…," Elizabeth whispered with a steadier tone. Though she lay with half-lidded eyes, her stare was trained on the door.

"You should be," Spike replied in a rather glib tone. He crossed his arms over his chest, as he situated himself more comfortably at the foot of the bed, "Just rest your weary little head." He assumed his guarded spot as he faced the door, "I've got my eye on it." Elizabeth had no idea what to make of this situation, but rather than think any more about it, she took his advice and closed her eyes as her body relaxed onto the bed. It was slightly comforting having him guard her as she slept. The person who hated her the most wanting to protect her? That certainly said something for the company he kept. Drusilla was harmless enough, she thought, but the one she really had to watch out for now was the one she had formerly trusted- Angelus.


	3. Day 3: London After the Great Fire, 1666

Though trying to remain vigilant, Spike succumbed to his fatigue from the events that had transpired from the day before. He woke up suddenly to hear glass shattering and bolted up. Rushing out to see sunlight shining through the broken front window, he dodged that spot of light as he ran towards Angelus' room. The door was cast open, but all that remained was the slumped body of the woman Angelus had fed on the previous night.

"Dru!" Spike called out, panic lacing his voice as he fled to their bedroom, fear now solidifying in the pit of his stomach. The sheets were rumpled, but the bed lay empty. "Drusilla!" he called out again as he ran throughout the home, looking into the kitchen, then pantry. He slumped down by the cupboards, eyes welling as misery dawned on him. In that moment of weakness, another window was shattered above his head. Shards of glass showered down around him and angry voices could be heard shouting.

"It's 'ere! We spotted the demon in 'ere!"

"Kill it! Burn it to the ground!" another voice chimed in. Spike glanced up to see the silhouettes of a lynch mob running around the perimeter of the house. Still hidden from view, he regained his wits and ran back towards his progeny's bedroom.

"Elizabeth! We need to leave. They've found us!"

Elizabeth sat up with a jolt and looked at him. Without delay, she scrambled out of bed and threw on an old day dress.

"It's daytime; how can we get out?" she asked, not bothering to take anything with her, as there was no time to pack. Listening to the commotion outside, she stripped the sheets off of the bed, hoping they would serve to shield them from the sun. The girl was indeed frightened but she well knew hysterics would not help in the least right now.

"We'll manage," Spike growled, yanking the thick draperies off its hooks, then wrapped it around to cover his head and back. "Come on!" he led her to the backdoor, hearing bricks shattering more glass, and torches being flung in soon after. Cheering could be heard as they slipped out; Spike hoped they were undetected by the mob's triumphant distraction.

┼†‡

It was a risky trek, being out in the middle of the day, looking like two common street urchins as they kept to the shadows. Spike pulled Elizabeth along, weaving her around to find some safe refuge, away from people, and more importantly, from light. But where could they go unless it was a place of public access?

Cloaked in her bedsheets, Elizabeth followed close behind him as they hid in a dark alley, "There has to be somewhere we can go," she said to herself. "I believe there is an abandoned farm near the train stations. It doesn't appear as though anyone lives there," she suggested, letting out a sigh as she pulled the sheets closer to herself.

"Sounds like a good plan as any," Spike replied, giving a curt nod. He scurried along, keeping his head low to avoid any unwelcome attention.

┼†‡

The train station was a good hour's walk from the heart of the city and their former home. When they had reached the farm, the only standing structure that was reasonably sound for them to take shelter in was the barn. Spike kicked the boarded doors down to get in, but once inside, they were swathed in darkness. The dirt floor was littered with straw; cobwebs hung from the corners and rafters; and the air was dank and smelled of dung. It was anything but charming, but with the windows also boarded, they would be at ease to know that no light would come in.

"Home, sweet home," Spike sighed. He shuffled across the length of the area and sat down on a thin layer of straw, propping his head back against the post behind him. It would have to do for now; it was better than having to take to the sewers like a rat. And just as the thought had crossed his mind, a rat scuttled across his path.

Elizabeth balled up her sheets as she looked around, seeing a ladder leading up to a loft. Grabbing a broom to remove cobwebs or stave off rats, she climbed up and nodded a bit in approval.

"It is a bit better up here in the loft," she called down below. She spread her sheets on some straw for a makeshift bed before plopping down. Spike glanced up. Following her suggestion, he stood and climbed the ladder to join her. There was little difference to him, save for having wooden planks beneath his feet instead of dirt. He lay back on one side of the sheets that Elizabeth had prepared and used the draperies he had as a blanket.

"This is bollocks," he said simply, staring up at the dark ceiling not far above them. The situation they were currently in, having to hide away in an abandoned farmhouse; having humans revolt and try to kill them; and- the last blow that hurt him the most- having his sires, his companions, abandon him, were exactly as he had called it- bollocks.

Elizabeth sighed in agreement as she lay on the other side, leaving plenty of space in between them. She had heard him calling for Drusilla; knowing they were gone, the realisation of what happened soon came to her. She looked at him with a sympathetic look, wanting to ask him if he was all right, but decided against it. This was not the best time.

"Where do we go from here?" she asked as she looked up at the ceiling, letting her mind wander.

"Anywhere the wind blows," Spike replied, his eyes still staring skyward. He wondered where Angelus had taken Drusilla. Had she gone willingly, or did Angelus have to coerce her with his ways? Drusilla was easy prey to his charms, so it probably didn't take much effort. Spike remained silent for a long while, then spoke: "Is there a place you desire to see?" he turned his head to face her, seeing only shadows obscuring her features.

At his question, Elizabeth tilted her head in thought then turned to him, "I've always wanted to see France. My mother told me stories of the French countryside, how it was so peaceful and beautiful. Or Italy. Anywhere beautiful and quiet," she said softly as visions of long winding roads and lovely buildings filled her head. They were so different, he nearly weathered by a harsh reality and she, still young and idealistic. It was an uncommon yet welcome conversation as she studied how the shadows contoured his face. Had she not known better, she would never suspect him for a monster.

"I've heard summers are really lovely in France," he commented, "and the wine's splendid," he spoke from experience. "I've always wished to see Italy myself when I was a young man," he said, his accent slipping back into one that resembled more like the upper class one he was raised with. "We shall go to both," he smiled, "find adventures in every opportunity and leave a mark wherever we've embarked." It was odd, but he realised that this was the first time that they were actually having a conversation. She finally looked at ease and no longer the timid mouse he had perceived her as- he didn't even have to strain to hear her speak.

Hearing his voice take a more elegant tone, Elizabeth turned to him a bit and even smiled a little, "I was never one for adventures. Well, my father used to have to drag me out of the gardens. I was playing with fairies and did not want to come inside," she recalled with a bittersweet laugh. "I pretended I was the queen. Flitting around with a shawl for wings," she said with a soft tone. She actually felt more at ease talking to him now. She didn't know why, but she thought it best to just enjoy this truce while it lasted.

"There is no one to stop you from having them now. The world is for our taking, laid out at our feet for our pleasures and pursuits!" Spike announced as though he were delivering a speech. Elizabeth smiled at the thought of going where she pleased, doing things as she liked. She was a naturally inhibited girl, but she liked the idea of freedom.

Spike had detected the slight dissonance with the way she spoke about her past, in particular, her father. He peered at her curiously, wondering if that man was the reason for her to turn to God and renounce her comfortable lifestyle. He lay back down on his back. Folding an arm beneath his head, he stared back up at the ceiling, "Was he the reason," he paused to glance at her, "you joined a convent?" It was a rather probing question, but Spike didn't see how else that sensitive subject would be broached. Besides, he was a curious creature, and the vampire in him was very much less inhibited than his human counterpart.

Turning from him, she looked back up at the ceiling, "No, he was not the reason. Well… I am not certain. I heard the call and I answered. I just found the thought of having to marry… someone loveless… horrid. He never let me leave the manor until I chose the church. I suppose a life serving God appealed to me because I chose it. I was happy with my chosen life. It was to be a fulfilling one," she said with a sigh.

At the sound of her remark of 'having to marry someone loveless', Spike recalled one of the darker moments in his living life- Cecily rejecting his love. "'Horrid'? Would that make him  _beneath_  you?" he scoffed, still feeling bitter remnants of that memory. He reminded himself though, that that night was also the best thing to ever happen to him- meeting Drusilla and having her make him into the thing he was meant to be.

Elizabeth looked to him, "No, not at all. The idea that I would have to marry, would be something loveless. Father always had his eyes set on someone wealthy, someone he said would be worthy of me. To me, it would be the same as… what Angelus had… almost done," she said a little more quietly. "No one is above anyone," she said simply. Spike listened to her explanation with a more reasonable mindset, but he still scathed from his first love's words. He glanced to her as she made her comparison, thinking, there was hardly anything to compare to the magnitude of what Angelus could do and had done.

After a short moment of deliberation, Elizabeth looked to him, "Did you… have any dreams before you became…"

"A vampire?" They had never said what they truly were till that moment when Spike uttered that one word. She might have understood what she had become, but now that it was given a name, it was all the more real.

Spike paused. At the sound of her question, he was reminded once again of the life of ridicule he had growing up. "I aspired to be a poet," he said plainly, the title of 'William the Bloody' lingering in his afterthoughts. He was silent as he stared at the ceiling, not bothering to elaborate. She could take it whichever way she wished; he was now a force to be reckoned with, not some shell of a man who could be pushed around by the mere pressure of a fly's wing. He had a reputation to uphold, and now a progeny that appeared to look up to him.

"A poet?" she said with interest in her voice. "I read small collections when I can; I did not socialize often so I read books. Poetry was always so interesting to me. They were like… paintings with words," she said as she peered up at the ceiling.

"Words to me were like paint- the pen as my brush, paper as my canvas," he replied, staring vacantly at the darkness above him. He remembered all too well the quaint mannerisms of William. It was unfortunate that although he had the passion for words, he could not deliver them as a true poet could. Why he bothered to share these details of his life with Elizabeth, he did not know. He was weary from all that had happened in the past few days and his sluggish brain didn't allow him to think straight. That was possibly the best reason he could come up with.

Elizabeth nodded. "Perhaps you should write again when we settle down. France is so beautiful. I am sure there will be many things to write about there," she said kindly, her voice drawing a more tired tone to it, her head slightly falling to one side as she grew sleepier.

Spike did not respond, but instead, closed his eyes as he let sleep drift over him.

She was kind to him and sounded as though she was genuinely interested in where his passions lay. It reminded him of his mother, so sweet and kind, giving him kisses when he was near, listening quietly and attentively as he recited his poetry as he sat by her side. Then he saw the image of her demon face, taunting him, saying how useless he was, and he staked her in the heart.

He woke with a start as he sat up in an unfamiliar environment, the drapes falling down to his lap. The sound of the straw shuffling beneath him reminded him that he and Elizabeth had taken refuge in a barn. He had no idea how long he had slept, but it was now nightfall, and he was hungry. Casting the draperies aside, Spike stood and brushed off the small bits of straw that had clung to his clothes and hair. His body still ached from the pub fight; the wound on his lower back a dull throbbing reminder of his past grievances. Climbing down the ladder, he slipped out into the night to feed.

┼†‡

Elizabeth slept in a semi peaceful and dreamless state before waking up in the loft alone. They were in the middle of the countryside with not many people around for miles and she was hungry. Thinking against leaving to hunt alone, she snagged a rat and made short work of it. She climbed down the ladder and stepped out to stand underneath the moonlight. Her mind wandered as she thought how drastically her life had changed in just a few days' time. Not straying far from the barn, she stopped and sat down in a field of wild grass to look up at the stars. Perhaps this new life would give her the freedom she so wanted.

┼†‡

Spike had gone to the train station to pick off a passenger to feast on. Finding a posh man with a similar build as his, he dragged him from the platform to a dark corner, devoured and killed him, and took his coat. Standing there as the trains whistled and churned by, Spike was tempted to jump on one in search for Drusilla, but felt a discordant pull within his chest. Although he was now sire to a fledgling, he had no moral obligation to stay with her; he had the freedom to leave as he wished, with or without Elizabeth's acknowledgement- he was a bloody vampire for crying out loud, the epitome of evil!

Spike stood in the middle of the platform, now donning the dead man's long grey coat, his brown one having been torn and left behind in the house he briefly considered a home, which no doubt, had probably now been reduced to ashes. The whistle alerted of a train pulling in, and as it slowed to a stop, the doors opened and a flood of people vacated the trolleys. The carts soon filled with the bodies that were waiting on the shared platform where he idled. He stood there frozen, watching men and women as they got in, wanting to move with the current of their feet. But he stood in his place, recalling the conversation he and Elizabeth had had, how they would travel to France and Italy together.

"Bloody hell," he cursed under his breath through clenched teeth as he turned to go back to his awaiting progeny.

┼†‡

Upon returning, he found her outside looking up at the sky. "Dru used to do that; she loved watching the stars," he commented, using her in the past tense as she was no longer with them in a physical sense.

Elizabeth turned to him from where she sat, "I always liked them. Father had this star map in his study. I would take it to my balcony and try to find the constellations." It was apparent that most of her life was lived within her manor, in her room with little company.

Spike walked towards her, his new coat unbuttoned, clean and blood-free, only to cover the dirty and torn shirt underneath, "Have you fed?" he asked.

Standing to her feet, Elizabeth nodded, "A rat. The thing was the size of a cat," she said, shaking a bit. "I figured it was not wise to venture off alone," she said as she turned to him.

Spike gave a nod, understanding one had to take whatever they could in a pinch. He personally didn't like the taste of vermin, but he supposed it was an acquired taste. It dawned on him how truly alone they were- Elizabeth had no one else to turn to, being shuttled into this dark new world, and he had literally been abandoned in his nest. For now he would find companionship with her, till he found another more suitable to his liking.

"Smart of you to wait," he agreed. "I came upon some inns across the tracks. Lots of travellers coming in and out," the barn was good in that it was isolated, but Spike could not thrive in an environment where there were no people. "Thought we could relocate there," he suggested. Seeing as they were on the edge of town, there was a slim chance they could be tracked down if the townspeople had not bothered to give up.

The young vampire nodded and looked back at the barn, "Much better than sleeping on straw," she agreed as she walked to him. "We can take a train when the time is right," she suggested. She was actually looking forward to them traveling across Europe together. His talk of adventure and freedom appealed to her more and more as she thought about it.

A pleased smile spread across Spike's face, "Yes, we shall," he said, resisting the urge to say that tonight would be it. He would have to do some careful planning before jumping ship.

Elizabeth found Spike strange- rough and rude, but still protective in his own way. Whether it was their connection or that this rough exterior was all a facade, she did not know. It was apparent, however, that this strange duo somehow fit together.

┼†‡

As Spike led her to the inns, he kept back as he observed the patrons that entered and exited the doors. He spotted a woman in a ruffled yellow dress with a matching bonnet and curls flowing down her back. Then, he glanced to Elizabeth- dull in comparison with her drab colours.

"Seems to be about your size." He turned back to watch the woman, "Would they be a nice choice?" They had nothing but the clothes on their backs, so Spike only thought it proper to take Elizabeth clothes shopping.

Elizabeth looked at the woman as the dress made her smile, but she shook her head a bit. What was she thinking? Killing a woman and taking her clothes? Well, the rat was not a lot… she rationalized. Giving into the thought, she nodded, "It would be."

"Another lesson, love, 'the art of seduction'," Spike smirked as he walked forward towards his target. He let Elizabeth watch as he approached the woman with a beguiling smile on his lips. It appeared that he spoke to her words of flattery, then, he took her hand to give a kiss; she seemed to take to this with a giggle and blushing cheeks. Offering his arm out for her to take, she complied by weaving her hands around it. Soon, they had stepped out and walked around the bend of the building and were out of sight. It all looked so easy, how he smiled at her, seeming like a handsome young man, romantic, and kind. The same charm that made Elizabeth feel safe upon her first meeting him.

Elizabeth's blood ran cold as she watched the scene play out.

There came a muffled cry that could only be heard with ears of superior sense. Spike gave the woman a swift and clean kill, ensuring that she didn't bleed on her pretty dress. Preventing it from getting dirty from the ground, he held her up as he waited for Elizabeth to catch up.

Elizabeth followed where they had disappeared to, turning the corner to see Spike holding the dead woman up like a puppet. If she didn't have such a hold on her old morality, she would have considered this a kind gesture.

"Well, don't just stand there gaping like a fool," Spike began to unlace the dead woman's dress, his fingers working with expertise, "get undressed." The darkness was a good enough curtain to veil their doings, just as long as no one happened to turn down that corner to take a shortcut.

Elizabeth glanced around as she wondered where she could change. Seeing that Spike was preoccupied, she took a couple steps behind him to undo her dress. She blushed as she pulled it off. Though she wasn't naked, her modesty got the better of her as she pressed the dress to her body.

Spike had the dress free from the woman's form in a manner of minutes, quick to snatch the hat from her head before she fell, taking along with it some of her hair. He untangled the strands from it as he shifted the dress over his arm. From the way he moved, one could tell this was not his first time with unlacing a dress, whether it was on a living or dead person was up to speculation. He looked at Elizabeth to see how far she was coming along.

Elizabeth rushed back to Spike and gave him a shy look before taking the lovely garment from him. This time, she ventured farther into the shadows to where she felt he could not see her.

It had been so long, it seemed, that Spike had been swept up in the wildness of the vampire life, that he'd often forget about- or rather didn't care for- modesty. He rolled his eyes and turned around to give Elizabeth some more privacy, even though he was very familiar with the female form.

Kicking the old and dirty dress aside, Elizabeth put on the yellow one to find that it fit. She pulled at the laces, ensuring a snugger fit, then let her hair down. With a soft sigh, she walked back to Spike.

As he heard the shuffling sound of the dress approaching, he began to turn, "Am I allowed to look now? Oh," he said, as he watched Elizabeth retreat from the shadows. Taking the bonnet from him, she put it on and smiled a little in silent gratitude. It was quite a flattering look on her. His eyes again gave a pass over her figure, "'Tis a proper fit, indeed." Elizabeth blushed and straightened out a few wrinkles in the fabric. Spike gave her a smile to match hers and offered his arm for her to take, "Shall we?"

Unused to the fit of the dress and to the attention, Elizabeth maintained her small smile and took her sire's arm with a polite nod. She walked with him, looking around the street at the hustle and bustle of travellers caught up in their own schedules to notice them.

Compared to the city, that edge of town was a quiet one. There wasn't much for entertainment save for a whorehouse and one main tavern. One would have to venture farther inward away from the tracks if they wanted to see operas and other more refined forms of entertainment. For now, Spike confined himself to that area, taking comfort in knowing that the vast majority of persons there were travellers, which would be easy for them to be displaced and not have locals being suspicious.

┼†‡

Spike entered the inn with Elizabeth in tow, their arms still linked as though they were a couple.

"Good evening, sir and madam," the innkeeper, an older man with salt and pepper hair and mustache, greeted them from behind the counter.

"Are there any vacancies available? We would like a room," Spike said, glancing to Elizabeth and patting her hand that was linked around his arm.

Adjusting his spectacles, the innkeeper looked down at his book, "Ah, yes, we do." Looking up, he paused to stare at Elizabeth, "I'm sorry, madam, but haven't you already checked in?" his eyes lowered to observe her dress. He then looked to Spike, a man that didn't quite appear as though he matched with the clean coat he wore with the dirty shirt.

"I assure you, she has not," Spike replied. "We've just arrived together," he smiled.

"I swear, there was a young woman who came in not hours before who wore the exact shade of yellow- bonnet and all," the innkeeper's brows knitted together with confusion, determined what he had seen was not an illusion. Elizabeth's breath hitched a bit.

"It is not uncommon to mistake a yellow dress with another yellow dress," Spike replied. "When it comes to women's fashion, I see no difference save for the colour," he chuckled lightly.

"Yes," the innkeeper joined in his laughter, "right you are," he said, looking a bit relieved. The innkeeper set a guest book down in front of Spike and offered him a pen before turning the book around after he had finished scribbling down their names. "'Mister and missus William and Elizabeth Pratt'," the innkeeper read; Elizabeth blushed at this, "do you have any luggage?" He glanced up at them, getting his keys ready as he noticed them holding nothing.

"No, we're waiting for it to arrive. It is just the two of us," Spike gave him a nod.

"Ah, yes, I see," the innkeeper replied, a tiny glint of unease in his eye. "Please, allow me to show you to your room," he said while coming around the counter.

As they were led up a narrow staircase, the young vampire could not help but blush at the idea that her sire had signed them in as husband and wife.

Once upstairs, they were met with a short hallway with three doors aligning each side. The innkeeper pulled out a ring of keys and inserted one into the first door on the right then swung it open for them. It was a small room with bare wooden floors, a cot in the centre, with a nightstand next to it. On the other side of the bed was a small desk and chair, situated beneath a tiny window that was covered in frilly lace drapes; against the wall opposite to the window was a wardrobe.

"Bring up a basin of hot water and soap," it had been a couple days since Spike had bathed since the fights and fires had started, and he sorely desired to get clean. "Don't bother coming up to fetch it later. We don't wish to be disturbed during the morning," Spike instructed, pulling a large tip from his waist pocket left behind from the previous coat owner.

"Yes, right away, sir!" the innkeeper pocketed the money, his nervousness now disappearing at the sight of cash. Spike closed the door and lit the oil lantern that sat on the entry table next to the door. There wasn't much to see in there, as everything was in plain view- a room simple and adequate, used for the purpose of frequent travellers.

Spike removed his coat and draped it over the back of the chair, untucking the shambles of what remained of his shirt- dirt streaked with dried and encrusted blood on the back where there bore a hole where he was stricken.

He returned to the door when he heard the voices of two men from downstairs. He opened it ajar to listen better.

"My daughter was to meet me here. It was arranged that she would arrive before me."

"Yes, it says she has checked in, sir," the innkeeper replied. "She stepped out, but has yet to return. I can show you to her room if you wish to see it."

"Show me," the anxious father commanded.

Spike eased the door shut to a sliver, peeking out as the man in question and innkeeper walked by to a room farther down. The sound of keys jingling were followed shortly by a door opening.

"Yes, these are her belongings," the father stated, "but good heavens, where could the girl be?"

"I'm sure she'll return in due time, sir. There isn't much for a young lady here."

"She always was a curious wanderer. Never one to stand still in one place," the father huffed.

"Shall I show you to your room now, sir?"

"Yes," the man sighed. He was shown to the room next to hers, and across from Spike and Elizabeth's.

"Thank you," he said, tipping the man.

"Anything else, sir?"

"No, that'll be all," he replied.

The innkeeper turned around to knock on Spike's door when it opened. He looked at Spike in surprise, "Oh, sir, your hot water," he held within his hands a jug and basin, and a set of towels over his forearm. Spike stepped aside to allow the man to set the things down onto the entry table. Glancing around nervously, the man looked to Spike, then Elizabeth, "Well, good evening to the both of you," and left a little too eagerly.

Spike did not close the door after that, instead, he stepped out and knocked on his neighbour's door.

"I said I didn't need anything," the man answered from inside, opening it to see not the innkeeper, but a man in a dingy shirt. "Oh, my apologies, I believed you to be the innkeeper."

"I couldn't help but overhearing about your daughter," Spike began.

"Verity, do you know where she is?"

"I do," Spike replied. Taking a step in, he smiled, "I can take you to her." The door was shut rapidly and a sound of fluttering shoes could be heard, followed by silence.

┼†‡

Hearing the girl's father question and worry about his daughter made Elizabeth feel sympathy for him, reminding her that her own father must be heartbroken since her disappearance. It made her feel a strange sense of mercy when her sire left to kill him as well.

┼†‡

Spike returned to his shared room with a clean change of shirt and trousers over his arm, and luggage in both hands. He shut the door with his foot and dumped the bags down on the centre of the floor, then tossed the clothes onto the bed.

"Had to get a new outfit; mine are in shambles." He began to shirk his top off, "You've got an entire new set yourself," he added, indicating he'd also taken the daughter's clothes, the same woman they had killed and stolen from earlier that night. Elizabeth looked through her new clothes and nodded in approval as she folded them back up and secured them in her suitcase.

Going to the entry table where the basin and steaming water waited, Spike stripped down naked, with only the glow of the lantern to bathe his skin. Elizabeth's eyes widened at this, as a blush coloured her cheeks. She quickly averted her gaze and rushed to the window to look outside. Spike continued as he poured some of the water into the basin and wet his cleaning towel, wringing it out a little before bringing it to his face, arms, and body. He turned to inspect his lower back where he was wounded, now seeing that a puckered and round scar remained. It was still a bit pink and sore, but it was no longer a gaping wound, which was a good thing. He scrubbed off the dirt and encrusted blood that had managed to cling to him, lathered himself with soap, and wiped himself off with the dampened towel.

"There's more water if you'd like to clean up," Spike turned to Elizabeth as he dried himself, rubbing a dry towel over his arms. He sat naked on top of the bed as he began to dress, not concerned with how uncomfortable it might have made Elizabeth feel.

"T-thank you," she said. Elizabeth carried the water and basin to the wardrobe, as she washed behind the opened wardrobe doors in an attempt to cover herself.

"He had a pair of train tickets," Spike stated, now appropriately clothed in a clean shirt and pants, "We shall set out tomorrow evening," he withdrew the tickets from the pocket from his trousers and set them on the desk. Seeing the tickets, Elizabeth gave a hopeful smile that their adventure would begin soon.

"It shouldn't be long before their bodies are discovered," Spike lay back on the bed and tucked his arms beneath his head.

Emerging in her dress slip, Elizabeth lay in bed next to him.

This was coming together nicely for the vampire. It might not have been the ideal destination he wanted, but it was closer to wherever Drusilla might be.

Spike turned away from Elizabeth in the bed that they shared.

With a small barrier of blankets between them for her comfort, Elizabeth closed her eyes, and fell asleep to rest up for the journey ahead.


	4. Day 4: To a Mouse

In Elizabeth's dream, she was back at their old home resting comfortably in bed, until the doors flew open to reveal Angelus standing there.

"Pretty young t'ing," he said as he swiftly walked over and pinned her down, his laughter low and menacing. Elizabeth struggled against him as she tossed her head from side to side, waiting for her sire to rush in behind him, but he never did. Crying in her dream as well as in her sleep, Elizabeth whimpered.

"Please… no…!" she said as her nightmare felt all too real. "Stop!" she cried.

Spike's peaceful slumber was awoken with the cries of the young vampire next to him. At first, he chose to ignore it; his eyes remained closed, but his brows furrowed in annoyance.

As Elizabeth's nightgown tore apart, she began to thrash and scream in her sleep as if it were actually happening. She was so locked in her own nightmare, not even her own screams could wake her up. As they grew louder and more turbulent, Spike turned to glare at her.

"If you don't shut it, I'll make you," he muttered, miming his hands towards her neck as though he were going to choke her. As if she were responding to his threat, she began to scream louder, and her arms flailed wildly about, even managing to clip Spike a few times before he managed to grab ahold of them, "Oy! Wake the bloody hell up!" he hissed in her face, shaking her as he did so.

Spike's threats and shaking only made it worse for her as the nightmare became more real and violent, now that it had a link to the waking world.

"You're only dreaming!" Spike snarled. Tears stained Elizabeth's reddening face as she cried out.

"Stop! Please, Angelus!" she yelled as she opened her eyes, only to see that it was not Angelus, but a very angry and tired William holding her arms. A sense of relief washed over her tired and frightened face, learning that she was only dreaming. Though the reality of it was that it had been real. Breaking down into tears in her state of confusion, she buried her face into her palms as she shook her head. The attempt to take advantage of the young nun was so unexpected and traumatizing, it now haunted her in the form of nightmares.

Seeing the panic-stricken terror in her eyes and hear her beg for mercy from Angelus caused Spike's face to soften. That had not been a dream, and she was reliving the horrible event of her possible rape. Although he was still annoyed with having being wakened, he tried to show a little more remorse.

"It's all right, it's… nothing but a dream now…, Elizabeth," he said carefully, allowing her to pull her hands away as she cried. Though all her crying so far had been a hindrance for his eardrums, he felt a sense of sympathy for her, as he could not fathom what sort of pain she was going through. Unsure of what words to say to comfort her nerves, he awkwardly patted her on the shoulder.

Elizabeth felt completely ashamed and vulnerable. She knew he was annoyed; she had woken him from his sleep. But through all of her crying, she was surprised he had not gagged her yet. Crying into her hands from fear and relief, she trembled like a leaf in the wind, only to slightly flinch at his gentle pats on her shoulder.

"Y-you…" she choked out through her tears, "you weren't there…," she whispered as she held herself tight.

True, Spike would never know what it could be like for a woman held under such circumstances, but he knew what it was like to be oppressed, and that was the closest thing he could come to an understanding.

"But I- …," Spike began, only to trail off. He had been there to see what Angelus did, and he had stopped it. "Try to get some rest, love," he said, patting her again. "He won't get to you now."

"I looked for you…, but you never came," she whimpered as she trembled. Even with the reassurance that Angelus would not get to her, she slowly leaned to him as he patted her back. She was slightly scared to, feeling as though getting close to him was a risk, but she felt that she could trust him, that he would indeed protect her. Drying her tears, she shyly shifted her pale blue eyes to and from him, confused and not sure how to feel in that moment, as if some part of her were still asleep.

"Hush now, little mouse, you're not making much sense," he said, his blue eyes looking back into the pale ones that glanced to his. "Just shut your eyes and go back to sleep." He felt the slight pressure of her shoulder as he petted her, as though she wanted the comforting human touch to sooth her pain. In his moments of sadness as a child, his mother would kiss his head and hold him against her breast, stroking his hair and rocking him till he felt as ease. Of course that wasn't something he could do to Elizabeth; just the idea of it felt strange to him, as he imagined it would be for her.

Elizabeth nodded and closed her eyes, taking in the little comfort he tried to give her in that moment. It was clear from her sheltered past and her preparation of the life of a nun, men were frightful and strange creatures to her, a concept that confused her greatly. As she fell back into a more peaceful sleep, the girl fell closer to where Spike lay, as if subconsciously seeking protection from whatever dangers that could snatch her in the night.

Spike continued to pat her shoulder, which turned into something like a rub, until he felt she was no longer crying and had drifted off.

┼†‡

With silence, Spike was able to welcome sleep once more. It was peaceful, sleeping next to the woman he loved. As he lay in a semi-state of consciousness, he could feel that her body was turned away from his. Rolling in closer, he reached out and wrapped his arm over her body as he pulled her into his embrace and snuggled close behind her. He inhaled her scent as his nose grazed the crook of her neck,

"Drusilla…," he whispered, only to stop in his actions. His brows crossed in confusion as he took another deep breath. Not recognizing the scent, he opened his eyes as he pulled himself up to look down at the woman below him. "Oh, bloody hell, no!" he cried, scrambling as far away from her as he could- till he fell hard onto the floor. "Ow!" he said loudly, forgetting how small the bed was.

Feeling someone hold her was a different but welcome feeling. Elizabeth cuddled a bit in her sleep as she felt an arm pulling her in close and someone nuzzling the crook of her neck. It was comforting to the sleeping girl, until a loud thud woke her up along with a loud yelp. Sitting up, she held her head as she looked around her, then peeked over the edge of the small bed to see her sire on the floor.

"Are you all right?" she asked with concern to her sleepy voice, her long brown hair tossed over her shoulder. The young vampire had no idea what had happened, but if she did, she would not be as calm and concerned as she was.

Pain radiated from Spike's back. He held his lower back as he squirmed, growling curse words under his breath. Then, turning to his side, he pushed himself up with one arm as he rubbed at his spine. Feeling the shadow of his progeny cast over him, he looked up at her with annoyance.

"Oh, you know, sometimes I fancy myself a good tumble off the bed. Sends a nice jolt of pain to the backside; a real lovely way to start the day off," he said sarcastically. Then, in a tone more true to his feelings, he growled: "Does it look like I'm all right?" he glared as he pushed himself up to sit upright. She was obviously oblivious to what had happened, or her pious nature would have been sending her through nervous fidgets or prayers of Hail Mary's for letting a man- or demon, if you thought about it- share her bed. And God forbid, being in closer proximity than an allowance of two metres, shame and penance! "The bed is too small," he said as he stood, trying to brush it off lightly. It wasn't so much that he blamed her, she just lay there; he was the one who felt foolish for mistaking her sleeping figure as Drusilla's. "But enough of that," he walked to the luggage and opened it, "the sun will be setting in a couple of hours. Get ready."

Elizabeth sighed, feeling a bit foolish from her sire's sarcastic response. She wanted to help but she did not know how and figured it best to stay out of the way as he got back up to his feet.

"I hope I did not kick you," she said as she got out of bed and began to get dressed, again letting her hair free from her long braid. Getting her suitcase in order, she looked at the tickets he got from the man. "Where is this train going?" she asked curiously.

Although it did not take Spike as much time to get dressed, he took care with the details on his outfit. The pants, black with grey pinstripes, fit a little too loosely at his waist, but the suspenders helped to hold it up in place; the vest, a single-breasted brocade of blue and gold, helped to cover up the difference in sizes. After cinching up the back of the vest, Spike's attire appeared more suitable to his slim build.

"Brussels," Spike replied, tying the black ascot cravat around his neck. "It's not France or Italy, but we're still making headway." He donned his boots and topped off his outfit with the long grey coat. "It should be safe to travel now," he said, opening the dead man's pocket watch to see the picture of a woman on the inlay. "How charming," he quipped, before pocketing it, the gold chains the only things remaining visible on his vest.

Making sure he had things at hand- some money and the tickets- he slipped them within the inner pocket of his coat. He scooped up his luggage and started towards the door, leaving behind his discarded and soiled shirt and pants in the corner of the room, and a dead man stuffed in a wardrobe in the room across from theirs. As they descended the stairs, the innkeeper stood from where he was seated behind the counter.

"Mister and missus Pratt, good day," he nodded, looking a bit startled as he tried to force a fake smile. "I heard a noise from upstairs, but I did not wish to disturb you."

"'Twas nothing but the chair falling over," Spike lied, replacing the chair for himself. Spike paid for their stay and turned to leave as a young man rushed in.

"We found 'er! Lyin' frigid and cold, all blue in the face, she was!"

"Miss Verity? Mister Bloom's daughter?" the innkeeper sounded shell-shocked.

"Poor fing was stripped down to 'er bloomers, she was."

"Oh, dear," Elizabeth gasped as she looked at her sire, playing her part well as a woman in shock.

Spike stepped outside in the overcast to see the police had arrived and were investigating the area. He also noticed a carriage waiting outside the inn, the driver seated as he watched the police work from afar.

"Excuse me, are you taking customers?" Spike inquired.

The driver straightened himself out, "I'm here to pick up a gentleman and his daughter," he replied, trying to remain professional.

"Ah. I'm mister Bloom, this is my daughter, Verity," Spike indicated towards Elizabeth, thinking she looked more like his mistress than his daughter.

"Oh, pardon me, mister Bloom, sir!" the driver stuttered, jumping down to take their luggage and opening the door. He placed the things inside and allowed them passage before closing the door after them.

Before long, they had arrived at the stations. Boarding the train, Elizabeth's face was one of excitement as they took their seats. This was her first train ride as well as her first trip far away from the city she once called home. It would take five hours before reaching their destination, and a small time slot of night left for them to find another place to stay. Sitting next to her sire, she could not help but wonder about it. Whether it would be a classy place or a country cottage, either would do to serve as a home for the while.

They are together, happy in paradise, she told herself.

┼†‡

**Brussels - November 18, 1880**

Their ride was a smooth one; everyone boarded there kept to themselves or had turned in for some shut eye. For the better part of his life, Spike had only travelled within Britain, and always with company. But at the moment, he couldn't help but feel a little lost and alone, despite having Elizabeth at his arm. This was because during those times, he would be with people he felt at home with, whether it was his traditional family, or adopted one. He was sire to Elizabeth, but it was a rather estranged relationship, something still new.

As the train pulled into the station, the conductor announced that they had arrived in Brussels. Spike stepped off, feeling a cool breeze greet him as he walked onto the platform. Being in a foreign country, Spike was not familiar with his surroundings, so he simply followed the crowd. It was a surprise to see that there were actually more people still roaming the streets than he had anticipated.

It was beautiful. Elizabeth had seen pictures and heard stories from her mother and father, but this was so different. Walking amongst the crowds on her sire's arm, she let out a girlish giggle as she heard music and saw shops with pretty lighted windows. A little display of whimsy from the pious and controlled girl.

"I wonder what the occasion is," he murmured out loud. They found themselves on a busy street where some bistros were still open. He could smell something sweet wafting in the air, like baked pastries, or cakes of some sort, and the undeniable scent of chocolate. "This makes me want something… sweet," he said, inhaling the air. "First we dine, then find somewhere to stay," Spike said to Elizabeth. He spotted a woman closing up a bakery shop in the distance, "The main course has arrived," he noted, soon to follow her as he left his progeny to fend for herself.

┼†‡

Letting him slip from her arm, Elizabeth walked around in search of her next meal. She had had predators, the same type of man she now despised- now it was time to look for something different. As much as her ingrained opportunistic nature begged for just anyone, she was determined to find someone bad. Someone who needed to die or was better off dead. And sadly, she found it.

As she walked a little farther from the pretty streets, she saw a sick man being pushed from a building with a man telling him he had not enough money to be treated. No matter how much the man bargained and pleaded, the doors shut to him. Walking, the man coughed and fell against the wall. Elizabeth ran to the poor man and knelt at his side.

"What is wrong, sir? You look ill," she said in French, her young voice full of genuine concern.

"I… am, miss…. Something bad; a word so long I have not the breath for it," he said with a voice so hoarse and tired, it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"Will doctors not treat you? Do they have no heart?" she said shaking. Elizabeth was born with money. Never before did she know doctors cared so much for it to let poor people die in pain.

"I… think not. I have not a franc to my name now…," he said as he lay pressed against the wall.

"Come," she said as she pulled him close, "it's cold," she whispered to him. His skin was pale, and from the looks of it, he would not last a week.

"You shouldn't… I'm dying, sweet girl. Don't want to take you with me…," he croaked as he tried to move from her.

"I can fix it."

"What?"

"Close your eyes. Think of everything you love," she said with a small smile. As she bit into him, she gently cupped her hand over his mouth to prevent him screaming. Feeling full from his blood, Elizabeth gently lay the man on the ground before whispering a prayer over his body. A slight wave of a headache passed over her, but she continued.

Walking back to the streets, she bought herself a little cake and ate it as if nothing had happened. Perhaps that was her purpose. To be God's justice as well as his mercy.

┼†‡

The smell of confectionaries clung to the baker girl's hair, allowing for a rather interesting tasting experience for the vampire. Blood was blood, but hers did have a hint of sweetness to it, like icing sugar. Spike discarded the body somewhere half-hidden in a bush, and strolled along with merriment. He was still a bit perplexed with the bustle of the streets until he saw a flyer pasted on a brick wall, advertising the world exhibition. Perhaps travelling to Brussels wasn't such a bad thing after all, he thought, thinking how easy it would be to snag him a bit of ethnic smorgasbord. On his way back to the street where he and Elizabeth had departed ways, he caught a glimpse of something streak out from the corner of his eye. He turned to look, but saw nothing. Spike was very much aware of the supernatural world, something evident with his coming of immortality, but he had not seen much in the months that he was a vampire.

"Elizabeth," not seeing his progeny in sight, Spike called out her name to summon her.

Elizabeth hummed to herself as she walked along the streets, looking into shop windows- a habit of hers even when she was alive. She was still limited to travelling freely, but now, a stroll around the streets was quite a treat. Coming across a flyer, she peeled it off from the shop wall, and folded it into the small pouch she carried with her. As she continued with her walk, she felt a pull inside her, an urge she followed till her sire came into view.

"Where have you been hiding?" Spike turned to her as she walked towards him. She appeared very content in that moment, he observed. Must have found a wrongdoer and threw down her righteous fangs, he thought.

"Seems there's much to see here with this world exhibition going on," he continued, as they walked side by side in stride, "I forgot that it was taking place in Brussels," Spike had little time to remember things of importance after his human life ended, but he did find the idea of a world exhibition intriguing. Now that he was at the heart of it, he didn't know what to expect. He had the time and opportunity to explore the next five if he found that he loved it.

He stopped to see that they were in front of a high class hotel, "This'll do for now," he deliberated, desiring more space for privacy, away from human eyes to do as he pleased. They were greeted as soon as they entered, where men held open the doors for them to pass. Spike did not bother to check himself at the counter, and instead, walked steadily up the large and winding staircase as though he knew where he was boarded. "Come along, little one," he prompted, the footfall on his boots softly echoing on what appeared to be marble stairs. Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head as she followed him up the stairs, knowing full well what was in store. Reaching the second floor, Spike wound through the halls to find a room that would be south-west facing, away from the sunrise. He picked a random door and knocked, waited, and knocked once more to hear footsteps approaching. Silently, Elizabeth asked for mercy on their soon-to-be victims.

A dishevelled man in a nightshirt appeared to answer it, leaving the door ajar to peer at the two outside his room, " _Quel est le problème? Nous dormons,"_ he spoke in French, irritated he had been woken from his sleep.

" _Pardonez-moi, monsieur,"_ Spike began to reply, his English accent detectable, then, switching entirely to English, said, "but my French has always been a bit shoddy. How 'bout we let ourselves in?" Spike's face transformed as he pushed the door open to accommodate him; he muffled the man's cries with his palm and sank his teeth into his neck. There was a shrill shriek from the bedroom as the wife of the man sat horrified in bed, bearing witness to the intruder who was killing her husband. "Get the girl," Spike snarled at Elizabeth, blood dripping from his lips to pause from the dying man he was hunched over.

Heeding his order, Elizabeth rushed to the woman and gave her a sorry look as her face changed.

"I am so sorry. May God be with you," she said as she killed her, pulling her to the floor as not to soil the bed. She hated being so monstrous, but at the moment, she really had no choice between her sire and the risk of being caught and chased by another angry mob. Pulling away from her, she wiped her mouth clean and seemed to be mumbling to herself, holding her stomach as if she were sick to her stomach.

Spike let the body fall to the floor, leaving it in the centre of the room as he strolled to the windows and drew the draperies open with a jerk. "A balcony and a view," Spike said. Opening the glass double doors, he stepped out to admire the city below. He could see the architecture of the landscape in the distance, and where he assumed the exhibition was taking place. The nightlife had dwindled down, quieting as the sky lightened. As Spike turned back around, again, he saw a flash from the corner of his eye on the street below. He leaned over the rail, squinting to take a closer look.

"Maybe it's something in their blood," he wondered, starting to question if he was hallucinating. He returned back into the room, shutting the doors and properly covered it up from the impending sunlight.

"Oh, quit feeling so sorry for yourself," Spike chided, seeing Elizabeth clutching at her stomach, "Thought you'd be over that by now," he removed his coat and let it drape over the sofa in the dining area. Spike jumped over the armrest to land on the soft cushions, propping his feet up on the coffee table as he began to pry his ascot off. "Really isn't healthy to dwell on the past, you know," he called over his shoulder towards Elizabeth.

It was with a shake of her head that she ignored him, ignoring the possibility of him being right. Elizabeth sighed and pulled the bodies to the farthest corner of the room so they wouldn't be in the way and in plain view. Walking by the window, it was with a heavy sigh that she let down her bun, so that her long brown hair fell to the small of her back.

"It is so beautiful. Looks like a summer field with all of these lights. I've never seen so many lampposts before," she said as she turned to him with a small smile.

"Kinda like pulling the stars down low enough to walk amongst them," Spike said, perusing the crystal decanters filled with alcohol, lifting each lid and sniffing the contents. He found something he liked and poured himself a tumbler.

"I saw this on a wall outside of a shop," she said as she took the flyer out from her little pouch. "What is this? I've never heard of it before," she said as she handed it to him.

"That's the exhibition I mentioned from before," he said, taking the flyer from her grasp, "the international exhibition. Celebration of fifty years of independence for these Belgians," he said, taking a sip of the amber liquid, causing him to exhale slowly as he felt the heat travel down his throat. "Smooth…," he cleared his throat and flopped back down on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other as his boots lay on the buffed coffee table. "King Leo the second ordered for some arch to be built," he shrugged as he peered down into his glass, swirling the contents, "bunch of shows and exhibits there from around the world. Inventions and other things if you're interested in that," he glanced over at her.

Sitting in a chair, Elizabeth's eyes lit up, "Sounds very interesting," she said, smiling as she listened to the history behind it. "We should go; it seems very interesting to see. I've never gone to anything like this," she looked to him a little hopefully. "That is, if it does not end in catastrophe," she said as she drew her eyes away from him.

"Ha! The only catastrophe will be us!" and with that, he threw back his head to down his drink. He grimaced slightly as he swallowed, placing the glass down on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Then it's settled," he said, getting up to walk over the stain of blood in the centre of the carpet where the man had previously been, "we'll go tomorrow." He could feel the sky start to get lighter outside, even hear the sound of songbirds start to chirp. Spike removed his vest and suspenders, letting them drop to the floor as he walked towards the bed, then kicked off his boots. Turning down the covers, he touched the bedding, "Still warm," he smiled, sinking into the downy comforts. He was glad that the bed this time had ample space.

Noticing the approaching day, Elizabeth walked to a dressing screen and removed her dress, replacing it with a nightgown she had in her suitcase. As she walked out, she gave a small smile of relief at seeing the large bed; it would allow plenty of space between them. Sitting on the bed, she began to brush and braid her hair as she hummed to herself, paying her sire no mind.

With the added effect of the bit of alcohol he had drunk, Spike felt like he was floating on a cloud, his body sinking deeper into airiness. As Elizabeth prepared for bed, he listened to her humming with closed eyes. This he did not mind so much, it rather much lulled him into sleep. He was that comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _Quel est le problème? Nous dormons. -_ What is the problem? We're sleeping.  
>  _Pardonez-moi, monsieur. -_ Pardon me, mister.


	5. Day 5: Temptation

That day, Elizabeth slept on the farthest side of the bed to avoid her sire from getting too close. Spike was also grateful for having such a large bed, finding himself only a short distance away from his progeny's body, and had somehow managed not to spoon her this time. Both were well rested, but for different reasons: Elizabeth slept long and peacefully because she finally felt safe knowing she was away from Angelus, whereas Spike's restful slumber was an accumulation of the aftermath of being chased out of another town.

For their planned excursion for that evening, Elizabeth changed into a lovely blue dress- cinched at the waist for a more flattering figure- and had her long hair pulled back from her face with a white ribbon. Spike felt a little fancy and decided to wear a brocade vest of black and red- having now extended his wardrobe once more- but stuck to the black silk tie. Looking outside, Elizabeth could see and hear people flock to the festivities. Obviously excited to see what sorts of exhibits there were, she was filled with the hope that that night would not end in mayhem. They left to find themselves in the current of visitors as excited chatter and energy was all abuzz in the air.

┼†‡

The exhibit took place at a park, where at the entrance, stood two half-built columns. Spike eyed the construction, looked to the flyer in his hand, then back again, "Thought there'd be an arch here. The thing isn't even finished being built." He crumpled up the sheet and tossed it over his shoulder and continued to trudge on by, seeing a row of different pavilions before him under large tents and stringed lights lining the walkways. Walking next to him, Elizabeth looked around and up at the columns with a shared look of disappointment.

"Hopefully the exhibits will fare better," she said with a hopeful tone as she walked into the first tent that lined the lighted streets. Inside, there was a small stage with row of chairs facing it. Finding a seat up front, Elizabeth sat down with a welcoming nod for her sire to join her. Curious to see that Elizabeth had taken a bit of initiative in picking the first exhibit, Spike followed after and sat next to her. As people steadily began to fill the tent, they looked to the empty stage in anticipation. A short and stout man soon stepped on stage. His face appeared shiny as though he had been coated in a film of grease; the glow from the surrounding light didn't do much to flatter him. He greeted the guests with a large smile and booming voice.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I see that you are all anxious to see what I am about to present to you tonight." Behind him, there was a cloaked object on a pedestal centred on stage. "Imagine hearing the most beautiful sound- that time you visited the opera, the strings of the orchestra," he turned to some audience members and smiled, "or perhaps the voice of your dear loved one," his eyes met Elizabeth's. Elizabeth tilted her head a bit as she quizzically eyed the object under its shroud. "Behold!" the man spun around and whipped the cloak aside to reveal some odd metallic horn shaped thing, mounted onto a wooden base with a crank on the side. "I present, the phonograph!" As the object was revealed, Elizabeth grew excited and curious as to how the phonograph worked; Spike raised a brow, growing a bit impatient as he waited to hear the man's pitch. "You're all probably wondering, 'what does it do?' Well, if I might have a volunteer. You, miss," the man stood in front of Elizabeth and offered his hand, "please, would you come up for a demonstration?" Spike turned to look at Elizabeth to see how she would respond. The shy young vampire blushed a bit, but nodded, and took his hand to join him on the stage; the man's smile broadened. As he helped her up, he led her to stand directly in front of the opening of the horned end of the device. "Now, miss, as I crank this handle, I would like for you to speak loudly, directly into this opening. Do whatever you wish- recite poetry, speak of your day, sing a lullaby," the man instructed, starting to wind the handle. Spike looked on from the audience, wondering what was going on. Looking at the object, Elizabeth wondered if the device would amplify her voice. She glanced to the crowd shyly, but nodded when she heard the man's instructions. Seeing her sire watch her from the crowd, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves, then began to sing the hymn 'Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee', her voice soft, but powerful in its own right. Once she completed a verse, she pulled back from the device and looked at the man next to her.

"I hope that was all right," she said humbly as she took a few steps away from the invention.

The man stopped cranking when Elizabeth had finished, "Yes, that was enough. Thank you, miss. And now," he turned back towards the audience and spoke with his booming voice, "if you would all remain as still and quiet as a mouse, and listen…," he trailed off, his voice growing quieter. The crowd also grew quiet and waited as the man turned the crank once more, only this time, Elizabeth was not singing. Small gasps were heard throughout the audience as Elizabeth's singing voice, although not as clear or loud, was heard emanating from the strange device. Elizabeth gasped with an excited smile as she, along with the crowd, listened in awe. The man stopped when the singing had ended. The people began to cheer and applaud, some even standing to express how impressed they were. "Thank you, miss. Please, a hand for our brave young volunteer," he held Elizabeth's hand up, causing her to blush, then allowed her to walk back into the crowd. People began to frock from around the stage as they began to ask the man questions.

Spike stood as he waited for Elizabeth, "A disembodied voice-  _your_  disembodied voice. Thought I'd seen the likes of dark magic, but now to have it in the real world, ha," Spike had to admit, he was intrigued.

"It is quite wonderful to have memories and things preserved in such a way to remember them," she said as she glanced up at him. "Let's see what other exhibits are here," her voice taking on an excited tone, her smile lively.

Spike offered his arm as they continued to browse the stalls. As they walked around, they came to different products and inventions. Some extraordinary, and some very trivial. Some were not as memorable as others; one being an 'incorruptible cashier', and some other items that had already been introduced to the world for some time. Spike took interest in the steam buggy and Roper steam velocipede.

"Imagine not having to be pulled by horses all the time," he said, inspecting the two-wheeled velocipede. It essentially appeared to be a bicycle, but with a built in contraption at the bottom of its body, pumping steam through the wheels to allow it to move forward.

Looking at the two wheeled contraption, she shook her head a bit, "I would never ride one of these things; I would be scared to death," she said as she looked at him.

"I'd like to see if they could make us fly," Spike laughed, continuing on.

Elizabeth laughed in agreement, "I would love to see the day when people fly through the air like birds," she said, looking up at the night sky.

They approached a vendor that had portraits hung on the outside and on the walls inside its enclosure. They were of stoic looking people staring forward or to the side, and others were of landscapes and nature.

Spike's eyes wandered over the black and white images, "Have you ever had a portraiture taken? It's been a few years since I've had one," he said absently. "Had to stay still for what seemed like an hour."

It was relatively quiet at that booth, but the man there took to them with enthusiasm, "Hello, there. Good evening, sir and madam," he smiled with just as much vigour. "There have been advances made in the field of photography. If you see here, you may notice the realism and likeness that's captured. As though the souls of the men and women were taken from those moments and frozen in these portraits."

"Right," Spike replied, not seeing how telling someone their soul would be sucked out would be a good selling tactic.

"Would you two care to have a portrait taken?" he smiled, hopefully.

Though Elizabeth shared her sires feeling of uncertainty of the salesman's pitch, she thought it over before giving a charming smile, "I would love to."

"Oh, splendid! I haven't had anyone want to tonight; you're my first customers!" he said, leading them around inside. Again, Spike looked to the man with incredulity; he was not a good salesman. "Now, there's a mirror just over there if you'd like to fix yourselves. Allow me to just set up my things. It won't take more than ten minutes, fifteen minutes at most," he said in a rushed tone, then ducked under a thick black cloak that was affixed behind the stationed photography box.

Spike sighed a bit and idled away from the mirror as he said to himself, "Bloody good a mirror would do." He looked to Elizabeth, "Have you noticed yet?" Starting to smile, he stifled a bit of a chuckle, "Go ahead, love, take a gander at your pretty little self." Elizabeth looked at him with a raised brow. When she turned to the mirror, she saw nothing, as if she was not there at all. Gasping, she cupped a hand over her mouth and turned away from it quickly before the man could notice.

"I did not know we were like ghosts," she whispered to her sire with a shocked voice and just a lace of sadness.

Spike couldn't suppress his laughter at the expense of Elizabeth's reaction, "Takes some getting used to," he said to her. Spike hadn't noticed this aspect of himself right away, since he did not look into mirrors unless he needed to shave at home or make sure he looked presentable, but he had started to neglect his appearance as soon as he had become a vampire. When he did happen to walk by a full-length mirror, he gaped at it to see only the reflection of the background behind him; he was but air in that backwards world. "Suppose that's one of the drawbacks of immortality," he paused, "that and the sun. And fire. Decapitation… holy water, a wooden stake to the heart," he began to list out their weaknesses, counting each finger to help him better. "Well, you get the idea," he shrugged. Elizabeth glanced down and made a frightened expression. She thought the way she became a vampire was already horrible, but the sound of all the ways they could die were a thousand times worse. Spike stood in front of Elizabeth and helped to straighten some misplaced hairs and pushed her long locks back over her shoulder, "Helps a bit when you have someone to make sure you're decent, too," there was a glint of a mischievous smile at the corner of his lips and eyes. She glanced up into his eyes as she ran her teeth over her bottom lip, an obvious nervous habit along with the slight colouring of her cheeks.

"I've got it ready, now!" the man called from underneath the cloak, raising his arm. "If you could please take a seat on the chairs before you and remain seated for five minutes. I'll let you know when it's safe to move," he instructed, his voice muffled.

"I've been curious; if we cannot see our own reflections, would we appear in pictures?" Spike mused. "I suppose we'll find out tonight," he said, taking a seat in the well-lit area. Turning to the man behind the contraption, Elizabeth sat down and gave a small reserved smile. Spike was familiar with being still, but resisted the urge to fidget. He always found that when he was needed to remain like that were moments when he always had an itch. He exhaled, heeding to patience when he needed to, and with his piercing gaze, stared into the orb of the black box where their image would magically be stored.

"You may move now," the man said, lifting the cloak up, and straightening his back.

As if Spike were holding his breath- if he only needed to breathe- he let out an audible groan and stood, "I remember why I didn't like taking portraitures; always having to stay still for so long," he mumbled.

"I will need to develop this now," the man said from behind the camera, seeming to be fiddling with some things. "It… will take some more time," he smiled apologetically.

"How long will it take?" Spike asked, growing more annoyed.

"Um, well, thirty minutes at most, b-but!" he stuttered, seeing the look of annoyance grow on his patron. "I can try to finish it in at least the next fifteen."

"Why don't we come back later this evening to fetch it?" Spike suggested, thinking it would ease the poor man's nerves as well as relieve his.

"Ah, yes, that would be more suitable. Thank you, sir, madam. 'Tis free of charge, thank you!" he smiled brightly, bowing his head a bit as Spike pulled Elizabeth away from him and the tent. Elizabeth gave the frazzled man a calm and kind smile and waved.

"I'm feeling a bit peckish now," Spike said, sniffing the air as they approached the food and vendor stalls.

"So am I," she replied. "So many different things to choose from. They all look so interesting," she eyed the sweets cart as she always had a little sweet tooth.

"Not particularly what I meant," Spike replied, "but I can always have that as dessert," he obviously meant the liquid portion of their diet. Elizabeth nodded, wanting to forget about that part of her diet for the moment, as the joy of the night thus far made her very happy. At least, more than she had been in the last few days.

They came upon a vendor where that distinct sweet smell again came wafting over as though to beckon them. Spike observed the sweets as they were prepared- circle in shape with deep wells of hashes embedded in them. There was a line of eager customers, as they were a quick and handy treat, and something that must have been regional to that area. "Liège waffle," Spike read the name, "comes in plain, vanilla, or cinnamon." The alternative next to that was a Brussels waffle, rectangular, with deeper wells, lighter and not as dense as the aforementioned, dusted with confectioner's sugar, topped with whipped cream, fresh fruits, or chocolate spread. "What would you like?" Spike asked Elizabeth, deciding he himself didn't care so much for the toppings so opted for a cinnamon Liège. Elizabeth ordered the Brussels Waffle with fruit along with peppermint tea.

"Coffee goes well with it," the vendor suggested.

"I'd prefer tea," Spike said.

"But you haven't tried our coffee-," the shopkeeper began, only to be interrupted.

"I'm English. Tea, please." The shopkeeper silently acquiesced to that response and handed them their orders, along with two steaming cups of tea. Spike found a little table outside for them to enjoy their treats. "You don't argue with an Englishman and his spot of tea," he said, whilst taking a sip of the hot beverage. He took a bite of his dessert, hearing the crunch of the exterior, and enjoying a chewy dense centre. His eyes widened in surprise, thoroughly enjoying the taste and texture.

"Peppermint tea has always been my favourite," Elizabeth responded with a light laugh, sitting across from her sire. She seemed a lot more relaxed as opposed to her morose and cowering temperament from the past few days. Taking a bite of her sweet with raised brows and a smile on her lips, she enjoyed the contrast of sweetness with the fresh fruit.

"Black tea with milk and sugar for me," Spike commented. It wasn't as though he needed to drink it, it was just something he was very used to, something he took a comfort in. "I'll usually have scones or biscuits with mine," he added, taking another bite of his waffle. "But I must say, this bloody takes it. Right up there with custard." He dusted off his fingers and scrunched up the waxed paper it was contained in, then sat back against the backrest, saucer in one hand, fingers holding up his cup with the other. Elizabeth sipped her tea, nodding as they compared their favourites. It was very peculiar how relaxed they were. He watched with an air of content as Elizabeth happily chewed her food and he casually sipped on his tea, letting the buzz of the people around them drift like white noise.

Then it dawned on him how unsettling it was for him to be so relaxed. He set down his cup, suddenly feeling a bit odd that he was just sitting there having tea with her as though they were… human. He had more important things to do, blood to drink, people to kill.

"When you're done, we should carry on-," he snapped his head to his right, this time catching a glimpse of that flash. It was with a sigh and a nod that Elizabeth realised reality was back into play, considering what she was, what they were. "I bloody  _knew_  it!" he said, abruptly standing from his spot, causing the table and chair legs to screech with his movement. "It wasn't the Belgian blood!" He looked to Elizabeth, "C'mon, let's get a move on." Sipping her tea, Elizabeth tried to savor the last moments of her contentedness before she was yanked up by her arm with a sense of urgency; Spike didn't care whether she had finished her food or not.

"What is it?" she asked as she hurried alongside him, wondering if it was a ghost or another mob. There wasn't time to explain as Spike launched across the walkway, pushing civilians to the side as they walked into his path. He clung onto Elizabeth's wrist, pulling her along with his aimless wandering, clueless to what he pursued- just as she was. Elizabeth tried her best to not hit anyone as her frustrated and nearly frantic sire pulled her along as if she were a rag doll.

"Where the bloody hell did it go?" he cried, pausing after having chased around nothing for the last couple of minutes.

"What 'it'? What is it?"

At that moment, all the frustration that had built up over the past few days seemed to boil up under his surface. He was all out ready to take hold of a park bench and shot-put it over his shoulder, perhaps putting out a few casualties at the same time to help vent his anger, when the little flash, a little godsend for the few people within his vicinity, sparked from around a corner. Spike stopped in his tracks and changed trajectory midway, "C'mon!" he urged Elizabeth to follow. She broke into a run once again, just to keep up with him as they plowed through more crowds of people who looked at them as if they were mad. Spike rounded the building to find a single dingy tent. It wasn't grand or glamourous like the other pavilions; it didn't even appear like it was meant to attract people being so isolated and far away from the other attractions. Spike slowed as he approached, squinting at it with uncertainty, "This… doesn't feel right," he said. Elizabeth followed behind him with slow caution.

At the sound of his voice, a man lifted the flap of the tent and peered at him, half hidden in the dark, " _Bonsoir_ ," he said in French.

" _Bonsoir_ ," Spike replied carefully, thinking of how to form his question before he spoke. " _Vous… avez vu…?"_  Spike began, asking if he saw it.

" _Qu'avez-vous vu?"_ the man replied, asking what he saw.

Spiked sighed in exasperation, "The bloody  _lumière!_  That bright flash of light!"

"An Englishman?" the man looked at Spike warily.

"Well, pardon my bloody  _French,_ " Spike replied.

The man gave Spike a good up-and-down and just flicked a glance at Elizabeth, seeing as she wasn't one to give him flack. He turned inside the tent and shared some whispered words with someone, then turned back around to face them, "If you're here for the show, show me proof."

Spike blinked, dumbfounded. "Right, the show… the show…," he stepped forward, reaching inside his breast pocket as though to procure some tickets when he threw a suckerpunch at the man's face. The doorman caught his fist in midair, moving forward just enough to reveal the hidden half of his body from the shadows. Although the left side of his body appeared normal like a human man, the right side was deformed. His arm was large and bulky, massive and vascular, with reddened skin and pustules to the point of bursting. On his shoulder was a smaller head, shrunken, with golem-like eyes, and jagged yellow teeth- that must have been whom he was speaking to. Elizabeth gasped with wide blue eyes at the sight of him. "All right! Mercy!" Spike growled as the demonic man twisted his arm.

He let go, glaring a warning at Spike as he expectantly waited, "Show me." It was obvious that this was not a show for the norm.

Spike glanced back at Elizabeth as he rubbed at his tender shoulder, then looked back to the man to share his vampire face, "Show him your pearly whites, love." Elizabeth calmed a bit as her sire looked at her and transformed his face, then did the same.

The man eyed Spike, "Oh, a  _vampire,_ " he rolled his eyes and let them pass without a second glance, letting the flap fall behind them. Spike looked around the dark little tent, guessing he could take another couple of wide steps before hitting the back of it.

"There ain't much 'show' here, mate," Spike called out. Before his foot touched ground on his next step, the entire dimension changed before his eyes. Similar to the national exhibit, the small interior of the tent transformed to an under dwelling with many different trade shows and vendors, except this one was for the supernatural world. "Bloody… hell…," Spike said slowly in plain awe. Elizabeth stayed close behind as she held onto her sire's arm.

There were demons of all ilk and colour- some very monstrous, and some almost resembling something close to human. It was another world full of monsters, but it seemed somewhat sophisticated, like another version of the human world. Coming to a demon, Elizabeth looked up at him with a frightened yet curious expression. Demons almost acted like humans which greatly confused her; it was different from what she had been taught about them.

Spike beckoned Elizabeth to stay close, "Come on, little mouse," he waved a hand forward as he remained transfixed with his surroundings. Unlike the human exhibit, the things there were magical and mystical, some were even things transported from other dimensions.

"Didn't think demons had tradeshows," he mused out loud.

"Well, how else are we supposed to share what's up-and-coming?" a blue demon with orange eyes and slit-like pupils said in passing. It turned to face them, "You two must be new to this," it said. It stood a little taller than Spike, had a slim build, a human-like figure, but a thick and long tail trailing out from down its robe. The robe, resembling something like burlap, had a leather strap for a belt. The demon's hair was red and hung low in loose curls, just past the shoulders. "I'm Elgardah," it said, handing them each a flyer. "I'll be at the visitors' information kiosk if you have any questions," it smiled- or something that resembled a smile- showing rows of tiny, sharp little teeth, then walked away.

"'Underground National Exhibit for the Underworld'," Spike read the flyer; the graphics on the front were of a demonic figure holding up a severed head with a wand in its other claw. "Not exactly a bunny rabbit," Spike commented. This was much more up to the vampire's tempo, seeing different trades of weaponry and methods of killing. There were a lot more excited grunts and growls than in the human exhibit, that was for certain. Casually walking in passing, Spike came upon a demonstration where a demon was using what appeared to be a guillotine slicing a watermelon in half. The crowd applauded in response, then the demonstrator reset the wooden piece that held the fruit in place, and it magically formed back into one whole piece. He removed it to show the crowd, in which they burst into even louder applause.

"Never-ending beheadings!" he grunted.

"Now that's a salesman," Spike commented, rather impressed. Elizabeth watched with a little bit of disgust and wonder. It was simple in design, but very efficient, she thought, until she shook that idea out of her head. She was almost impressed with the invention- well, not as much as her sire.

"He does have a certain charisma, doesn't he?" she said as she looked up at the salesman.

"That photographer could learn a thing or two from him, but I'm afraid he wouldn't make it back alive," Spike chuckled. They walked farther inward, seeing normal demon folk, as normal as they possibly could come, some even pulling their children with them. A reptilian-like child with green scales and red eyes peered at the two vampires curiously, cautiously approaching closer.

"What are you? Human?"

"We're vampires," Spike glanced down at the child and replied, giving it a little grin. Elizabeth smiled at the child, finding it rather charming in its own way.

"Vampires!" the mother retorted, tugging her child away by the arm. "Don't get too close to them," she said, giving them a dirty look. Then as she walked away, she muttered under her breath, "Filthy half-demons."

"Hey, I heard that!" Spike yelled after her. "Or have you forgotten our keen sense of hearing? That's right, keep walkin'. It's demons like you that are teaching your children your filthy habits of prejudice!" Spike turned back around and tugged on the lapels of his coat to reassure himself, "Even in this world, us vampires are considered to be on the lower rung. We're not demon enough for demons, even though we're probably stronger than the lot of 'em in here. And we're certainly not human," Spike glanced over at Elizabeth. Elizabeth looked angry and confused as to why being a vampire, something she had no choice in, somehow made her lesser than other demons, as much as she hated to admit she was one. It was strangely noble to say the least how her sire reacted to the demon mother's prejudice as they walked along. "Isn't it strange to suddenly have the world look at you as though you were the lesser? All the money, wealth, and power you might have had in your former life means nothing now. Funny how things work out, eh?" he smiled, finding that scenario amusing.

Looking ahead, she spoke, "It is a little strange. Amusing and oddly depressing. In the human world, rank supersedes character. It is the same in this sense. You could be the noblest or the strongest, but it means nothing if you are the wrong kind of creature. Just another form of the aristocracy," she said with a sigh. In life, she thought the way things were were terribly flawed; money and birth dictated how much respect one got. She thought back to the man in the alley. If she were sick, she would have doctors at her bedside and treated with the best care, but that man was left to die in pain because he had no money. It was one of the reasons she chose the church. To be free of the class system and help everyone equally under the eyes of God. A purpose that had now all changed.

"Spoken like a true nun," Spike teased, seeing well where her virtues still lay. Elizabeth sighed at her sire's teasing. "Mortal or not, everyone wants to be put into different systems of class, just so they know they're higher-up on the food chain- in most cases, literally. They feel better about themselves when there's someone else whom they can look down on." Spike wasn't so caught up in demon politics or privileges, he just did what he wanted, when he wanted. This was evident in his nature, the way he always defied his sire, Angelus. He was no longer restricted by civil law and he did as he pleased- which often led to chaos, grief, and unwanted attention for his companions. "Let's steer you away from that righteous path, Saint Mary; you don't want to glow too brightly in this dark pit hole," Spike reminded her that what she was saying probably wasn't in the best interest of the people that surrounded them.

They passed by some tradesmen selling exotic blades and weaponry. The swords were flashy, but Spike was a traditionalist in the sense that he preferred his fists, or beating his opponent with their own. He also preferred to carry light. There were booths that sold magic in the form of talismans, potions and elixirs, books of spells, and the like. There was also a noxious smell in the air a few feet away from where they stood, emanating from a demonstration Spike did not care to see.

"This way," Spike almost gagged, the odour driving them away into a vendor that looked like it was run by a mystic. Spike glanced at the sign, "You sell sins?" He gave Elizabeth a sideways glance and wink, thinking this was probably something she needed. Elizabeth turned to her sire with wide eyes at and flushed.

"The Seven Deadly Sins," the woman replied in a low husky voice. Like them, she appeared almost human, save for the colour of her coal black eyes. Despite being a middle-aged woman with spiderweb wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and lines etched at the laugh lines of her mouth, she looked beautiful and youthful. Her hair was dark chestnut, tied back into a bun, and covered by a shawl. She sat in front of a low table lined in black velvet where upon seven different objects lay: a small dagger, a glass perfume bottle, a small pouch, a jewelled brooch, a gem-studded ring, an amber glass containing some elixir, and a smoking pipe filled with herbal leaves. She leaned forward a bit and peered up at the two, shifting her head slowly between the both of them, "Choose one," a slow smile spread across her face.

Looking at the seven items, Elizabeth's breath hitched. She wanted to protest or ask her sire to leave, but she remembered him warning her to not show too much of her nature in this world. Looking at the items, she tried to steer clear of the most horrible ones- wrath, sloth, pride and her worst fear, lust. Thinking of how much she feared it as she looked, she felt something draw her to the pretty bottle with the elixir in it. No matter what she did or thought of, her crystal blue eyes were drawn to it.

"Ah, the girl has chosen," the woman's coal eyes followed Elizabeth's gaze. Gliding her fingers slowly across the velvet lining, she picked up the amber bottle and held it up for Elizabeth to take. With a nervous hand, Elizabeth took the small bottle and carefully set it in her purse.

"How do these things work?" Spike asked, his idle hands reaching out to pick up the dagger, only to have the mystic slap it out of the way.

"Depending on how the buyer uses it, the sin may affect them, or others."

"Huh. All right, so what about that?" Spike indicated to the item that Elizabeth had chosen.

"It is for the user to find out," she replied simply.

"What sin did she choose?"

"It is for the user to find out," she repeated.

"You're rather relentless at this, aren't you?" Spike raised a brow. Elizabeth looked to her sire with suspicion, wondering why he was so keen on knowing how the sins worked and which one she had picked. She did not know why, but something in her drove her to pick it, a force just as strong as the one screaming at her to run away from it.

"Payment," the mystic said, looking to Spike, not amused.

"Yeah, but when it comes to money, 'course you'll be singing a different tune," Spike began to pull out a coin purse from within his coat when she stopped him.

"No, not that," she turned to look at Elizabeth and pointed, "that white ribbon, in your hair," she smiled. Pulled from her thoughts, Elizabeth nodded as she tugged the white silk ribbon from her hair, letting her hair fall in loose waves down her back. Looking a bit nervous, but hiding most of her worry, she handed the woman the ribbon to pay for what she had purchased.

"Beautiful…," the woman whispered as she marvelled at the ribbon within her grasp. "And you," she pointed at Spike, "your tie."

" _Me?_ " surprised, Spike touched a hand to his chest. "Wasn't that payment enough?"

She held up two fingers, "Two patrons, two payments."

Spike stared at her with incredulity, reluctant to move at first, then thought reasonably to give in, "You drive a hard bargain," Spike said, untying his ascot swiftly and then tossing it at her face. She was momentarily blinded by it as Spike casually slipped one of the items into his pocket, then began to walk away, "Nice doing business with ya." The woman took no notice as she merrily rubbed the texture of the tie against her cheeks. When there was some good distance between them, Spike withdrew the stolen good from his pocket and examined it. It was the jewelled brooch; a golden intertwining serpent coiling around three smaller diamonds. It was a rather small piece, something simple yet elegant, an item that could be worn by both woman or man. "Pretty thing. I wonder what it does," he mused. Elizabeth was full of unease. It was plain as the nose on her face.

"Why would you steal that? You don't know what it will do," she said as she looked to him, feeling that same feeling in her head now that the bottle was on her person in the little pouch that she held.

"If she wanted my tie as payment, it was only fair that I take what I was owed," Spike said, tossing the brooch in the air and then snatching it back within his palm. "I guess that's the thrill of it, not knowing," Spike grinned at her, "living dangerously on the edge. Love, I'm the embodiment of sin; one more little sin wouldn't hurt." Looking up at him, she quickly drew her eyes away at his proclamation. Elizabeth had never met a man so proud of his sinful nature before.

"When is sunrise in the human world?" she asked with a little haste in her voice.

He slipped the brooch back within his pocket and turned to face her, feeling her anxiety dampening his mood, "It's hard to tell when you're in a different dimension. Daylight won't affect us here. But if you wish to return, you know where our hotel is." Spike felt like he'd done enough handholding for the night, and she needed some room to grow. He also wanted to spend a little more time exploring that part of the underworld amongst his brethren.

Elizabeth's fear was rooted in the impending sunrise and what lay in her purse. It was something so powerful, it all but beckoned her name. Stopping, she gave her sire a nod and looked down the path, the portal tent in her sights. It wasn't too far a walk. She'd just have to walk quickly, keep to herself, and not look scared. After giving her sire one last look, she nodded again and left his side, knowing that once she returned to the human world, she would be a normal girl in their eyes. At least there, she was somewhat safe without her companion to watch over her.

┼†‡

Once Elizabeth took a step back into the human world, it was as though the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. Walking out of the tent, she began to make her way back to the hotel. She walked slowly, taking in the sights with a smile as she used to, only now it was different in a surprisingly good way. She felt safe in knowing that if anyone tried to hurt her, she could easily kill them. A horrid thought, but one that brought comfort as she took her leisurely stroll back to their room. Taking off her shoes and hanging up her coat, she felt that pull again as her eyes fell on her purse. With a sigh of restraint, she tried to put her pouch in the dresser drawer, but her body would not let her. As if it had a will of its own, her hand dipped inside the pouch and pulled the little glass bottle from the pouch. She held it within her hands as she sat down in an armchair, staring at it as she tried to resist the urge to open it.

┼†‡

Spike felt a little more liberated after Elizabeth took her leave, not having the responsibility of minding a budding vampire. He wasn't usually a solitary being, he was quite the opposite; he needed to be in the company of others- sharing killings and a bed with Drusilla, and camaraderie and mentorship from Angelus. It was just with Elizabeth, they did not share so much in common with their difference in bloodlust. He wondered if there were such a thing as a non-evil vampire. He laughed at the idea and quickly dismissed that notion.

Perusing the different attractions, he ended up wandering into a drinking pavilion where there were beverages served to the liking of demons. Spike took a seat at the bar and ordered himself a pint of blood.

"Mm, still warm," he said, pleasantly surprised as he took a sip.

"We only serve the freshest of human blood here," the barkeeper said as he wiped down the countertop, indicating that there was a 'fresh tap' in the back. He was a demon who appeared to be built entirely of grey stones.

"Have there always been these… kinds of exhibits?" Spike inquired, waving his hand in the air mildly to indicate he meant the whole demon exhibition.

"For centuries now," the barkeeper replied. "Not from around here; I can tell. This your first one?"

"Yes," Spike replied, glancing over as a couple of demons had to prove their manhood by having an arm wrestle. "But your way of advertisement? A lightning flash? Surely there could have been something better than that," Spike scoffed, gulping at his drink.

"'Lightning flash'?" the barkeeper raised a stony brow. "We have flyers all over the city. Invisible to the human eye, but clear as day to demons," he showed Spike the national exhibition flyer, the same attraction for humans except when turned at an angle, everything changed to the one advertised to the underworld. "I'm not sure what you saw, but that wasn't from us," the barkeeper explained, moving away to serve another customer. Spike looked at the ad, a little dumbfounded, but now even more curious as to what he had seen. He stood from his stool and walked over to the jabbering demons after one had been defeated.

"Who's next?" the winning demon boomed, taunting onlookers around him.

"I'll have a go at it," Spike smirked, placing his mug down at the table in front of him as he plopped down in the empty seat.

The demon, greenish-grey skin with large horns, looked at Spike, then began to laugh, "No, seriously, who's next?"

"That's what I said to your mother when she came to me last night," Spike replied. The surrounding crowd uttered a low 'ooh' at Spike's comment and turned to look at his opponent, wondering what he would do in turn.

"All right,  _vampire_ , if you wish to be humiliated, I'll gladly be the one to do that," the horned demon growled, visibly upset. He brought his arm up on the tabletop just as Spike did, then clasping hands, they began to wrestle.

"Spike."

"What?" the demon grunted, confused.

"My name. Remember it. Be glad you've met me now when you'll be hearing my name being told in legends, centuries from now," Spike smirked.

"Vampires, always thinking they're so much more than they are. Why do you even bother coming here in our city," the demon grunted, his arm shaking.

"Other vampires? Not as memorable as me, I'm sure."

"You all look the same to me- fangs and ridged brows. The girl was a nutter, though."

Spike wavered at that moment, allowing the demon to slam his arm down onto the tabletop in triumph.

"Ha!" the demon jeered, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

"The vampire, she was with another called Angelus?" Spike swallowed, his voice now serious, no longer touting his bravado.

The demon paused from laughter to glance at Spike, "Yeah, that name does ring a bell. Evil son of a bitch," he shook his head as he drank from his mug. "Left a little trail of bodies before they took their leave."

Spike left the table, his face pale and his eyes panic-stricken, "They were here… they were here!" he muttered to himself, soon leaving in haste.

" _Vampires,"_  the demon scoffed, "so melodramatic."

┼†‡

Spike passed through the portal, retracing his steps back through the pavilion of the human world when he passed the photography vendor from earlier that evening.

"Oh, sir! Sir!" the photographer called out as Spike walked by briskly. "I have your portraiture developed!" Spike stopped, sighed, and turned back to him. "But I'm afraid…," the man trailed off; he glanced down in disappointment.

"What?" Spike asked, wondering if the picture had developed. If it hadn't, he'd have himself a snack.

"Well, I'm afraid portraitures are best suited during the day. There wasn't enough lighting so…," he showed Spike the photograph, where both vampires, Spike and Elizabeth, were clearly present.

"Well, bloody hell," Spike replied in surprise.

"Yes, I'm terribly sorry. It was too dark, and the edges are all but a blur. If you return during the day tomorrow, I'll have this redone!" the man said, looking very apologetic and pathetic.

"Do I really look like that?" Spike cocked his head to the side as he examined his face in the picture. It had only been a few months since he'd been turned, but he still remembered how he looked like, and what was captured in that picture did not resemble the man he held in his memories.

"I… yes…?" the photographer answered carefully, unsure with how to respond to that question.

"Hmm," Spike replied, stroking the structure of his cheekbones and jawline with his freehand.

"Sir…?" the man asked, uncertain with what to do.

"It's fine," Spike patted him on the shoulder. "Here, a tip," Spike flicked a coin in his direction as he strode off with the portrait in hand. Although he was treated with the knowledge that vampires could photograph, his thoughts were flooded with Drusilla and Angelus- they had been in Brussels.

┼†‡

Sitting on the bed, Elizabeth looked at the bottle in her hands as she inwardly screamed at herself to put it away. No matter what she thought or did, the bottle remained nestled in her hands, her eyes eyeing it. The curiosity was beginning to be too much for her as she carefully opened the bottle. Having a sweet and inviting smell, she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a tiny sip of it, just a few drops worth before she brought herself to put it away. The elixir tasted sweet and smooth, nothing that indicated anything bad or dangerous. Setting the bottle down in the bedside table drawer, Elizabeth rested her forehead in her hand as a slight shiver ran through her body.

┼†‡

Shops were finally closing as Spike returned to the hotel. He didn't know where Angelus and Drusilla's trail ended, but he needed to know where they could have gone. He needed a lead. He entered his shared room to see Elizabeth there as though she were a pet waiting for her owner to return.

"I picked up our portraiture," Spike indicated by lifting the framed picture in his grasp. Hearing her sire's voice, Elizabeth turned to face him as he handed it to her to see. She took the picture with a small smile as he began to remove his coat. Pulling the brooch from his pocket, Spike lounged back on the sofa as he examined it, his thoughts swirling where he would go to find his first clue.

"I-it's wonderful…," she said as she shakily set it on the bedside table. The young vampire let out a soft groan as she suddenly felt ill; the feeling in her head was getting worse. She thought choosing the bottle was safe, that no one would get hurt if she did not choose wrath. If she could only comprehend how wrong she was. Thoughts of draining countless people filled her mind. The hunger was so strong, she felt like she has been starved for days. The thing that horrified her the most about this sudden hunger, was that she did not care who it was. Not at all.

"It's nice to see we can actually take pictures. Makes living without a reflection more tolerable," Spike said absently, eyes still transfixed on the brooch as he turned it over within his fingers. Spike turned to glance at Elizabeth at the sound of her groan, "What's wrong with you?" he grinned and faced her more readily. "Did you get into a scuffle on your way back? Don't be shy about it and share."

"It… is so hot in here… I feel so sick," she said, her voice a little desperate, but held a roughness that she never used before. It was not anger, it was more like frustration. Shaking, she looked at the window knowing that the sun would rise soon, but she was so ravenous, so hungry. Holding her head in her hands, she let out another groan as her mind wrestled with her hunger, trying to be herself, trying to reason with the urge to feed without any thought to the safety of herself or others for that matter. Her face grew paler than usual. Looking up at her sire, it was apparent in her eyes what was wrong with her. It was evident with what she was experiencing was more than just a physical kind of pain. Spike grew serious and walked over to her.

Taking her by the arm, he looked down at her, "Elizabeth, what did you do when you got back here?" He looked at the way her eyes were searching for something; it was the look of ravenous hunger, of the thirst for blood. He'd never seen her like this before; this was something that would take a vampire weeks of withdrawal to look the way that she did.

Elizabeth blue eyes darted around before looking to her sire as if she were asking for help, "I walked here… the bottle… it called to me. I tried to lock it away. A drop… I drank a drop…. I had to… to make the calling stop," she said with a look of decisiveness. The one thing that kept her from being a brutal killing machine was her ability to pick and choose her victims. That look was fast fading from her eyes as the bloodlust began to take over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _Bonsoir -_  Good evening  
>  _Vous… avez vu… -_ Did you see...  
>  _Qu'avez-vous vu? -_ What did you see?  
>  _lumière -_ light


	6. Day 6: Our journey had advanced --

"That witch…!" Spike breathed. "She's tricked you into some sort of magic to make you ill!" he said, growing angry. "You'll need to feed; it isn't safe for you to go out now." He walked away from Elizabeth as she lay weak in bed, aware of the rising sun cloaked behind the thick draperies.

Elizabeth shivered as her eyes took on a lost and glazed look, her focus wandering around the room at nothing in particular as she mumbled to herself, "I'm… so hungry…."

"I'll send for room service." Picking up the telephone receiver, Spike rang the front desk and waited for a response, "Yes, hello, I'd like for someone to come up immediately with some fresh towels," he paused as he listened to the person try to explain that they would come later in the morning to replace them. "No, I will not wait! I need them now! Do you understand?" He hung up shortly after and walked back to Elizabeth, "Someone should be arriving soon." At that moment, not even Elizabeth's voice of reason seemed present, for it was drowned out by the screams of her intense hunger. The fact that she had picked a sin and drank from it did not seem to matter- she couldn't even remember doing it. All she knew was the will of her ravenous appetite.

Within a couple minutes, a soft knock came at the door. Spike stood to answer it, allowing the housekeeper to walk in, only to grab her by the wrist and have her dragged to Elizabeth's bedside. The woman shrieked, unaware of what was going on. "Come on now, love, you're making too much noise," Spike clamped a firm hand over her mouth. "Drink up, Elizabeth, or you'll wither away." Shaking her head, Elizabeth's darting eyes focused to see the maid being pulled towards her- she did not need much convincing at this point. Quickly changing her face, she bit into the woman's neck like an apple and drank as though she hadn't in weeks. There were no apologies, no tears, just hunger and relief. It was a wonder to see Elizabeth feed with reckless abandon, finally embracing her vampire nature without having a bias at choosing who her next victim would be. Although Spike found that it should have been more appealing, he knew that she was affected by the elixir she had taken, and the way she fed wasn't so much pretty, as it was pitiful.

"I see we've found the corresponding sin," Spike sighed, finding it ironically fitting for her as she so fought in vain the urge to properly drink. He walked away, letting the poor girl feed in peace as he slumped back down on his spot on the sofa. "Is it better, love?" he called from a distance. As Elizabeth fed, she took every last drop of blood from the woman before letting her drop to the floor. She panted softly as she lay on the bed in relief, then lifting her head, she glanced to Spike and nodded.

"Better… tired…," she said as she licked the droplets of blood from the corners of her mouth. Looking at him, she wondered what relic he had chosen.

Spike lay back on the sofa, propped his feet up on the armrest, and crooked his arms beneath his neck, "You've finally had a proper meal," he called out. "Really, that's the only way you should be feeding," he commented. "But rest up now; let the effects of the potion wear off," he said, peering down into the bedroom at her. Elizabeth nodded; lying on her side, she tried to close her eyes to rest. The woman's blood had satisfied her, but not for long. As the hunger returned, she tossed her head and groaned softly, causing her to drift in and out of restless sleep. She didn't know how long this suffering was going to last, and since she could not feed again without going out in the sun or raising suspicion, she had to suffer through it until the potion wore off.

Spike remained on the sofa, leaving the bed for Elizabeth to recuperate in. Staring up at the dim ceiling, he listened as the room grew still and quiet. Confident that Elizabeth had drifted off, he sat up and began to head towards the door. He did not go far before a soft moan caused him to pause. His hand lay idle on the handle as he looked into the bedroom to see that Elizabeth remained asleep, only to be plagued by restlessness. He gave a little sigh and an indifferent shrug. There was nothing more he could do but let the effects of the magic wear off, he reasoned. He shut the door quietly behind him as he descended the stairs.

┼†‡

Avoiding the shafts of morning sunlight shining through the windows, Spike approached the front desk and was greeted by the concierge.

" _Bonjour, monsieur,_ " the man greeted him at the desk with a warm smile.

"Ah, yes,  _bonjour_ ," Spike paused. "You do speak English, yes?"

"Of course," the man nodded, "what can I do for you, sir?"

"I've heard there have been a string of unusual murders lately within the city." The man paled and his eyes grew wide at Spike's blunt response. He glanced around to see if there had been others listening, then drew closer as he lowered voice.

"As with every city, we have our share of misfortunes. But I assure you, monsieur, the utmost security and safety within our hotel."

Spike gave a little chuckle, "Oh, I'm not concerned with that. I'd just like to know the whereabouts. Particularly any bodies that might have been discovered in the past couple days. Strange markings on their necks, an unexplainable amount of blood loss- or anything else similar to that." The man looked at Spike in shock, having given such a descriptive request.

"Surely you're not going to visit those areas."

"Well," Spike gave a little shrug, letting the thought hang in the air. "Have there been bodies found that fit that description?" he pressed.

The man looked down at the counter, brows furrowing as he nodded solemnly, "Yes, there have. Four in total that have been discovered. Such tragic and unusual circumstances," he sighed.

"And their whereabouts?"

The man lifted his head in confusion, "Pardon?"

"Their whereabouts. Or perhaps you could give me a general location of where they were found?"

"Please, monsieur, this is not information I would consider sharing with one of our guests," the man pleaded.

Spike pulled out a couple of bills from his vest and slid them over the counter towards the man, "Would you be more inclined to share now?" The man paused as he looked down at the money, then folded it into his inner coat pocket.

Still looking apprehensive, he spoke, "One, far south of here in a park. Two within the city on the streets." Spike raised his eyebrows slightly, thinking that those two were by his and Elizabeth's doings. "And one near the train station," the man nodded.

"Show me where on a map," Spike requested. The man gave a little nod and pulled up a large desk map onto the counter, then pointed at the locations where those occurrences had happened. Excluding the two kills that Spike and Elizabeth had made, the distance between the kills from the park and train station didn't appear to align. It was also a far smaller body count than Spike had expected. "The one in the park, does that normally occur in that area?"

"Unfortunately, yes, this has happened more than once." The man paused as a porter walked by behind the counter to drop off that day's stack of newspapers. Once gone, he resumed, "I assure you, that is all I know, monsieur."

"Mind checking today's paper for me? I'm sure there have been more reportings." The deskman sighed and picked up the top paper, unfolding the print to suddenly stop at the front page. His eyes widened as he uttered something low in French. "What is it?" Spike asked.

The man looked to Spike, eyes wide, "An orphanage… three children and two nuns…," he closed his eyes and shook his head.

"That's fantastic!" Spike responded gleefully, knowing full well that fit Drusilla's and Angelus' modes of operations. The man snapped his head up and stared at Spike's outcry in utter shock. "…Bloody fantastic awful news," Spike recovered, hamming up his act with an overly disappointed look, shaking his head. "Well," he tapped the countertop as his composure quickly turned back to one that was normal, "thanks for all the help." The deskman was at a loss for words.

Spike returned upstairs with a little hop in his step and stole back into the room, feeling optimistic with his leads.

┼†‡

Lying in bed, Elizabeth's hair was wildly spread around her, and her brows were scrunched in a look of distress as the potion made its course. Tossing and turning, she had finally settled in hours later, exhausted from both lack of restful sleep and the intense hunger leaving her.

Spike lay nestled on the sofa as he napped with his arms folded in a loose embrace; his head lay inclined to his chest and his forehead pressed softly against the sofa cushions. Like Elizabeth, he did not get much sleep. The cause was not only from his progeny's low moaning sounds of suffering, but from the sheer excitement that he was so much closer in finding Drusilla. Waking up momentarily after only a couple of hours, he felt ready to go about and further investigate the already warm trail. He tousled his fingers through the matted curls atop of his head and shuffled towards the bed where Elizabeth lay.

Flopping down on his side next to her, he propped an elbow up to give his body some leverage as he gazed down at the mess she appeared to be, "Wakey, wakey sleeping glutton," he pressed his cheek into his palm and waited for her to stir. "How's my little bloodthirsty vampire feeling this morning? Hankering for more bloodlust?" he asked in the gentlest of sarcastic tones.

Waking from her sleep , Elizabeth looked up at her sire and rolled her head to the side before sitting up, "My head hurts so badly… And please, don't say that; I was not in my right mind," there was a slightly deeper tone to her timid voice since she was suffering from something similar to a hangover from the effects of the night before.

Spike laughed, amused at her expense, "Well, someone's in a mood. Shall I ring someone up, or are you well enough to prowl the streets? A little fresh air might do you some good."

Elizabeth nodded as she stood and ran a hand through her hair, "You are probably right. I need to wash up a bit." She stood and walked to the bathroom to fill the basin with water.

Spike lounged back on the bed and tucked his arms beneath his head, "We can go out for a bite, explore the sights some more… on our own a bit," he said, not caring to share his plans or intentions with her, "rendez-vous back here before sunrise, and maybe have some time for tea," he suggested. Elizabeth sighed as the refreshing cold water ran over her face as she listened to her sire's suggestion.

"Sounds like a wonderful idea. There are plenty of sights to see until then," she said with a happy tone, actually liking the idea that she was able to be on her own for the night, free to take walks and truly be herself without commentary from her sire. After all, she was perfectly safe in Brussels with her main and only danger far away, she thought. Having Elizabeth agreeing so readily would make Spike's plans for that evening run even more smoothly. If she had decided to tag along with him, he'd have to create some diversion and abandon her at some point, but she seemed happy to be on her own.

Spike stood from the bed and removed his vest, deciding he should also get ready for that night. Letting his suspenders fall from his shoulders, he stood before the open wardrobe as he explored what kind of clothes the dead man had packed for his stay. He found that they were very fine, suited for high class occasions for parties and evening wear. In all honesty, that wasn't in the vampire's taste; it seemed more up to par for Angelus. He ended up settling for some black trousers- which actually fit better than the ones from his previous victim- and a clean white shirt with a dark grey vest. Thinking whether he'd want to opt for a tie or not, he chose a gold coloured one.

Once Elizabeth had dressed in her signature outfit of blue and Spike was all cleaned up and decent, they departed ways. Elizabeth left for her own solitary meanderings, whereas Spike had a carriage arranged to take him to the address of the orphanage that he had stolen a glance at from the newspaper.

┼†‡

Following his first clue on finding his missing sires, Spike found himself in front of a two-storey orphanage. From the outside of the building, one could not assume the amounts of bloodshed that had taken place inside, but for his keen sense of smell, he could pick up remnants of that distinct metallic odour. Just outside the door was a small memorial of lit candles, gathered from the surrounding townsfolk- Spike could not help but smirk at that. He knocked on the door and waited, hearing some slow shuffling from inside before an elder looking nun appeared. She peered at him warily with beady eyes, overly cautious because of the recent murders.

" _P_ _uis-je vous aider?_ " she asked if she could help him, though her hands never left the door.

Spike smiled kindly at her as he tried to compose himself, " _Mes condoléances sincères et attristées, je suis vraiment désolé pour ce qui vient de se passer_ ," he began, offering his condolences.

" _Merci_ ," she replied, feeling more at ease with the stranger's compassion. " _D'où venez-vous?_ " hearing his accent, she asked where he was from.

" _Angleterre_ ," he smiled, "…do you speak… English?" he asked hesitantly.

The nun's expression warmed, "Li'l bit," she replied, her accent thick. Spike sighed, feeling a bit of relief switching back to a language he was more comfortable speaking in.

"I wanted to extend my greatest sympathies and condolences, for I too was an orphan. I thought I would offer my services and make a donation." The nun's eyes shone at his generosity, her smile growing brighter at his selfless act.

"Ah, sank you, monsieur, please, come in!" she opened the door wide to allow him passage.

"It is my pleasure," Spike stepped past the threshold. Once inside, the smell of blood was much more prominent. Despite it being cleaned and scrubbed away, the scent clung to the floorboards and the areas that couldn't be reach, mixing in with an overtone of soaps they had used. Spike sniffed around the area some more as the nun led him towards the dining hall, but could not pick up any trace of Drusilla or Angelus. "When did this horrendous act happen?"

"Two nights ago," the nun shook her head solemnly as she folded her hands in front of her. Spike's eyes widened at this, but not out of shock and terror, but because of how close he had actually been. Though to be sure that this was an act left by his sires, he would have to find out more details.

"Who could have possibly done something like this? Were they a gang of unruly men? Who would dare enter a place of sanctuary and desecrate God's children?"

"No, not men," the nun began, her voice growing quieter, "demons." Spike felt the smallest smile twitch at the corner of his lips. "Zey appear like… man and woman. Zee lady, very beautiful. 'Er 'air like zee night… skeen like… milk. Zee man,  _comme un grand monsieur_ , like… a gentleman. 'Is smile…," she trailed off and shook her head, touching the tips of her fingers to her forehead and chest as she formed a cross. "But not man or woman… demons," she repeated with closed eyes. "Zeir face… eyes yellow… teet' …," she clasped her hands in front of her and muttered a small prayer beneath her breath. Spike could barely contain his excitement; he was standing where his love had been just a couple days before. They had ended up walking in front of the church hall where there was another memorial set up. Candlelight flickered over their faces as she turned to look at him.

"Did they say anything? Let you know where they'd be heading next?" The nun's eyes opened and she glanced up to Spike questionably.

"Pardon? Zey are demons. Zey are from 'ell. Zee only 'ome zey return to is 'ell," she replied in her confusion. Clearly, this strange man needed some spiritual guidance, she thought. Spike's patience was wearing thin, and knowing he wasn't going to get much more out of an old bag married to Christ, he thought he'd let some of his own colours show.

"Bloody hell, hell,  _hell!_  Is that all you bloody nuns talk about is 'hell' and God? Perhaps that's why your bloody husband refuses to communicate with you because you're all such bores!" he growled, his once proper and formal etiquette turning into something brutish and unsavoury. The nun looked to him in utter confusion and shock at his vulgarity. "Demons aren't just confined to one location, you know? We've got a bit o' wanderlust in these veins here. You could say we're a curious bunch," Spike smirked.

"Monsieur…?" the nun blinked several times as she tried to process what the Englishman was saying; her brows creased as she glanced up at him.

Spike sighed, "Oh, bother," giving his neck a small snap to the side to allow that demon of his to make an appearance, "does that clear all things up for you,  _sister?_ "

" _Mon Dieu, viens en hâte à mon secours!_ " she muttered rapidly as she scurried back, closer towards the altar where the memorial and candles were lit. Falling to the floor, she hastily clutched within her robes for her rosary as Spike steadily stalked towards her.

Giggling, he kicked it out of her grasp, "Funny, isn't it? How He never comes when you need 'im most." He knelt down and yanked her up by the arm, tearing away at her headdress and collar, and revealing her pale white neck beneath, " _Au revoir, ma_ _chère_ ," he chuckled before clamping his fangs down and draining the virtuous blood out of her.

Although not entirely happy where the trail had taken him, Spike was satisfied knowing that Drusilla and Angelus had been there, and that he had been very close. Turning to leave, he began to walk back down the hall towards the front door when something suddenly caught his eye- it was that damned ubiquitous spark that he had been seeing all over the city. Spike would not let the opportunity escape him this time.  _What the bloody hell are you…?_  he thought as he sprinted back down towards the church hall where it seemed to have flickered off to. Once there, he stood staunch at the entrance, arms spread wide as his palms pressed against the doorframe. Spike stared on at the shock of the scene before him.

All this time he had believed this little flicker of light to be something more effervescent or fleeting, but what was sitting before his eyes was something very solid and  _real_. Standing hunched over the nun's body was a demon. Its body was lithe and slim; skin grey with cracks running along the course of it like dried desert sand. Tapering down its back was a tail, extending long and low like another appendage; it was long enough to graze the floor, but it twitched and hovered just above it like it had a mind of its own. Though the demon was human-like in form, its legs resembled like hind quarters of an animal; its thighs thick and strong, but in place of where nails should have been were sharp claws, and even longer claws on its dexterous skeletal fingers. Protruding from its temples were horns that grew back along the length of its skull and tapered off. Scraggly black hair draped down over its face, curtaining the glow of its yellow eyes.

"Finally decided to make an appearance, have you?" Spike scoffed. "Nice parlour tricks you've got there, but why have you been following me?" The demon didn't respond and only continued to hover over the dead nun. Spike canted his head as he watched, noticing that the demon was doing more than just watching the body, it was consuming something from it. Coming off from the dead nun was some sort of essence, white and translucent, and something that wasn't entirely visible. This strange sort of vapour was being funnelled directly into the demon's mouth.

Spike moved closer towards the feasting creature, "What exactly are you doing?" Again, he was met with silence. He was starting to get annoyed at this type of unjust treatment. Taking one of the candles off the memorial, he dashed it as the demon, "Eh! I'm speaking to you here!"

" _Qui autem superbierit nolens perturbare me!_ " the demon snapped its head up and hissed as it was being interrupted from its feast. What it said sounded archaic and broken, but this was a language that Spike recognised- it was Latin.

"What are you doing?" Spike asked again, this time in Latin.

The demon smiled, showing rows of jagged and yellowed teeth, "I like the taste of the meals that you've left behind…."

"And what exactly are you eating?"

"Her terror, her trauma."

"So that wasn't her soul?"

The demon laughed, "What would I do with that? I'm not that sort of demon."

"Then what kind are you?"

" _Angor Vorator_ ," -anguish eater. This was something new to the vampire; Spike simply nodded. "The meals lately from your kind have been so much better tasting… than what I usually get…."

"'My' kind?" Spike quirked a brow.

It looked to him, its eyes glowing and flickering over his form, "'Vampires'." Spike felt a thrill of excitement shoot through him.

"Were you present when the orphanage massacre happened?"

The demon licked its lips, its black tongue running over its sharp teeth, "Deliciousss," it hissed, closing its eyes. Spike took that as a yes as a small smile began to peek through for him.

"Do you know where they were last? Where was the last meal you had from them?" Strange as it was, this… creature was the only link that could possibly help Spike in locating Drusilla and Angelus.

"I liked following them… my meal led me to the loud and clanking boxes… they moved too fast and too far away… I can no longer taste their delicious mealsss…." Spike nodded, surmising that 'those things' must have been trains.

"Show me which one they took."

The demon looked to him, its gaze steady, "No." Spike did not expect the demon to outright refuse, he actually wasn't sure at all what to expect.

"All right, fine. How about we make a deal? You show me which clanking box they took, and I get you another one of these 'meals'? Sound good?" The demon started to grin at this. Rising from its stupor, it turned till the image of its solid form had disappeared into a spark of yellow. Spike took a brief moment to realise what was going on, then spun on his spot as he raced out, catching up to the little pockets of flickering lights he saw dancing along in front of him till he had reached the train station.

Watching one of the trains clatter by, Spike let loose a sigh- there were five possible places they could have taken: London, Amsterdam, Kroln, Frankfurt, or Paris. The demon grew impatient as it sat perched on top of lamppost.

"My meal, give it to me!" Spike glanced up at it and glared. Since he had given it his word, he looked around to see one of the last men scuttling off from a late departure and stalked after him. Yanking him from behind, Spike quickly snapped his neck and let the body drop down into the tracks.

"Satisfied?" he growled at the anguish eater. It grinned and flickered down off the lamppost and over the body. "Well?" Another train pulled out of the station.

The demon glanced up at it, "Not that one…," then erratically jerking its head, it continued to consume the anguish from the man's body. Spike blinked at its response. " _More…_ ," it hissed, lifting its head when it had finished.

"You bloody glutton…," Spike growled, turning to find another victim. He was doing it for a good cause; he needed to get back to his lady love. This game went on till it had dwindled down to the last remaining train that 'they did not take'. Though finally happy to get his answer, Spike was still annoyed that he was extorted by the likes of some geriatric demon.

┼†‡

Elizabeth walked the streets with the comfortable ease and curiosity of a tourist- looking into store windows at pretty dresses and hats that lay inside. Entering a shop, she smiled at the clerk as she glanced around before coming to a table of gloves. There were many different variations of gloves of different fabric and even colour, but out of the lot of white ones made of silk, one particular pair stood out to her.

"Sir? What are these gloves made of?"

"Oh, only the finest leather, miss. Notice how soft they are," he said as he offered them to her to try on. They fit her hands perfectly. The material was soft and beautiful, almost like a second skin.

"They are splendid. I'll take them," she said cheerfully as she paid, wearing them as she left the shop. Along the way, she had a shifty character or two for supper before continuing on her relaxing solo outing; it was a nice evening for her to enjoy alone. The next shop she entered was a bookstore. In her life of confinement, she had discovered a passion for books, and they had quickly become one of her most cherished things in life. Her hands perused across the spines as she walked through the aisle, picking up a choice few that caught her eye; she flipped through them before continuing on her way. As the night came to a close, she decided to buy a few pastries and tins of tea for their room before leaving for their hotel. As strangely caring on the odd occasion, and rude as her sire could be, there were times where she admitted to actually enjoying his company.

┼†‡

When Elizabeth returned to the hotel, she walked into the room and set down her box of sweets on the table and requested the kitchen to prepare the tea she had bought. Setting the little cakes and savoury pastries on a tray, she began to hum to herself. Given that the night was still lively, she decided to open the window ajar to let the music in from the streets flow into the room. She giggled as she began to dance. Though she was always a controlled young woman, there was still the spirit of a young girl inside of her that yearned for the fun she had missed by the will of her parents. She hummed along to the music, dancing as if she were on stage, and spun gracefully with her hair flowing behind her. She was a young nun-to-be, but hidden within was still a shy young girl, free to dance and laugh when no one was watching.

┼†‡

Spike had a long night out. Being an immortal with supernatural strength, speed, and stamina, he could withstand things much better than a human, but what he had been through that evening had stretched him a little thin. As the night was growing late, he wasn't greeted by the usual doormen, but a lone man at the front desk who waved at him from a distance. The man's smile soon faded to a look of surprise, but quickly recovered to a forced smile. Spike wasn't aware of his state at that moment- tie spattered with blood down the front of his collar, and some droplets freckling his face- but he didn't care so much anymore about his appearances, as he reasoned he was going to leave that place soon enough. Entering the room with sluggish steps, he paused as he came upon Elizabeth's dancing.

"Well, bloody hell, was there something else to that elixir?" he commented.

Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks and spun to face him, "O-oh, this… it's nothing," she said, quickly moving away to shut the windows and drawing the blinds. "I bought some tea and sweets from the shops earlier if you want any," she offered as a red tint rose to her cheeks.

Spike gave a little sigh as he resumed his walk towards the sofa, removing his coat in stride, "Tea sounds lovely right about now." Upon taking a closer look, she noticed his state.

"Are you all right? You look like you got into another brawl," she said with a slight tone of concern.

Spike slumped down on the soft cushions as he glanced down the front of his shirt, "Oh, explains the man's expression," he gave a little shrug. "No cause for concern, love, it's not my blood." He touched his face to see that some dry flecks of blood came off with small smudges that were still wet, "That could pass for wine, right?" he said, wondering what the man downstairs was trying to make of it. Again, he gave a little shrug of his shoulders and sighed, then removed his soiled tie.

Elizabeth nodded as she poured him a cup of tea before giving it to him, "I'm sure it does. Hard to tell what it is unless you're studying it up close. The little hand pies are delicious," she said as she placed the plate in front of him.

Spike received the cup happily, "Thank you," he said gratefully, an automatic response he'd say when someone else prepared him a cup of tea. He was, after all, raised in a proper home by a doting mother.

"You're welcome," Elizabeth gave him a nice nod.

"Just a little run-in with an Angor Vorator demon. First time I've ever encountered one. God, those buggers are quick. Remember when I had dragged you half around the pavilion like I'd gone mad? What I'd seen was a bloody Angor Vorator demon!" Spike continued, shaking his head a bit, an expression as though he was tired and fed up with that nonsense. "But I see after the initial shock of being a temporary glutton, you look fine and dandy."

"I suppose you disposed of him then?" she sat down to enjoy her own tea, ignoring his last comment.

Spike stirred in some sugar and milk before sipping at the hot beverage, enjoying the warmth it gave him, "Mm, well, not exactly," he said, taking another sip. He glanced to Elizabeth from over the rim, taking another languid gulp before removing it away from his lips, "I had other plans with it, but I didn't kill it. This is human blood," he indicated, "not the demon's." She sipped her tea and concluded that the blood must have been from his supper that night.

"What plans were those?" she asked curiously.

Spike placed the cup down and picked up one of the hand pies by Elizabeth's suggestion, "M-mm!" he said, brows shooting up in surprise. "These are bloody delicious!"

Elizabeth laughed, "They are, aren't they? I tried one and just had to bring a few back with me. They were so kind as to make these fresh," she said as she bit into one herself. Spike chewed the pie with fervor, as though he were hungry and required sustenance, although it was untrue for both accounts.

He looked up at Elizabeth with a smile and a glint in his eye, "Just a little plan to help us decide where we'll be heading next. You wished to see Paris, yes?" He picked up his tea and took a sip before setting it back down, "The next train leaves tomorrow evening at 8 o'clock," his smile broadened. He stood as he waved his arms in grand gestures, "We shall pack tonight! Just you wait, we'll have the adventures you've always dreamt of!" he exclaimed, showing his own excitement through his fatigue.

Elizabeth smiled as she nodded with hopefulness, "We're going to Paris?" she laughed happily at his antics. Setting down her cup, Elizabeth gathered her things and neatly packed them into her suitcase, excited to see a city she had always dreamt of and only heard about. "I cannot wait!" she said, hugging him before rushing off to gather more things. It might have been because of his state of fatigue, or purely his own excitement in being reunited with Drusilla again, but Spike laughed and happily received and reciprocated Elizabeth's hug. He watched with amusement as he watched her rush off to pack her things, thinking how far she'd come along from being the mute little mouse of a girl he'd picked up off the street- or rather, Drusilla did- and groomed her into a vampire that was learning to hunt on her own and be excited about her unlife. He gave a small and content sigh, feeling almost a bit proud of the sire he had become. He set down his tea and began to pack his luggage as well, tossing soiled and bloodied things he did not need atop of the small stash of dead bodies in the corner that had now taken on a foul smell.

Once done, Spike scarcely wanted to do anything else but fall into the soft comforts of the bed and sleep. He managed to give his face and hands a wipe-down, then plummeted into the beckoning sheets. Although, once there, he was so giddy with excitement, he fought against sleep until he could no longer keep his eyes open, and he finally got the rest he so well deserved. The next evening would be a new beginning in another city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _Bonjour -_ Good morning  
>  _monsieur -_ mister  
>  _Puis-je vous aider? -_ How can I help you?  
>  _Mes condoléances sincères et attristées, je suis vraiment désolé pour ce qui vient de se passer. -_ My sincere and saddened condolences, I am very sorry for what has happened.  
>  _Merci -_ Thank you  
>  _D'où venez-vous? -_ Where are you from?  
>  _Angleterre -_ England  
>  _comme un grand monsieur -_ like a gentleman  
>  _Mon Dieu, viens en hâte à mon secours! -_ My God, hurry and help me/save me!  
>  _Au revoir, ma_ _chère -_ Goodbye, my dear
> 
>  **Latin Translations:**  
>  _Qui autem superbierit nolens perturbare me! -_ Who dares disturb me! [I used Google translate for this one. I have no idea if this is correct, lol.]


	7. Day 7: In the Train

That day Elizabeth found it especially difficult to sleep from sheer excitement. They were going to Paris! Smiling, she looked at her packed suitcase before closing her eyes and let sleep take over. When she woke up that evening, she got up before her sire and dressed for their trip as she kept her eyes trained on the clock in their room. She looked to her sire's still sleeping form and nearly bounced with excitement.

"It is almost seven o'clock! I hope we arrive in time," she said eagerly.

Sleep had greeted Spike like a blunt object to the back of the head, sending him in a deep and almost death-like slumber. He would have slept longer had he not been awakened by the shrill sound of Elizabeth's excited voice.

"Hm, wha-?" he said, turning his head and sitting up to see Elizabeth all dressed and ready to board the train. "Wha…?" he looked to the clock, then back to Elizabeth. "Why didn't you bloody wake me up sooner!" he growled, tossing the rumpled blanket aside. He stood and went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face whilst trying to put on a vest, "We might be late because of you!" he poked his head out to glare at Elizabeth from the bathroom doorway, water dripping from his face as one arm was bent through one of the holes of his vest. Spike was not one to care for punctuality, but this required the utmost of urgencies. "The next train to Paris isn't until another two days if we don't make this one!" he growled, stomping back out with a half buttoned up vest, only to give up with the rest of it to put on a pair of socks. "Honestly,  _Elizabeth_ , I'd expect more responsibility from you!" he lectured. Elizabeth looked down to the floor like a scolded child before making sure they had everything to take with them on their trip. Having donned his shoes, Spike got his coat and checked in the pockets for the tickets, some money, and also felt for his hidden brooch. "Well, come on, then," he beckoned for her and picked up his luggage, not bothering to put on a tie, "say goodbye to the rotting corpses and let's get on our way!" he huffed. He marched to the door, leaving no tips for any poor souls that would be cleaning out that room after their departure.

┼†‡

They left hastily to the train station, arriving there with some ample time to wait. But still, time to wait made the vampire all the more anxious.

"Where's the bloody train?" Spike muttered under his breath as he looked down the distant tracks, then down at his pocket watch. It clearly indicated that they still had more than ten minutes to wait. Elizabeth sighed in relief to know they had plenty of time to spare.

"At least we do not have to rush here," she said as she took a seat on a bench and looked up at him with an eager smile. She was happy to be finally going to Paris and have the adventure her sire had promised her.

"No, but we have to bloody  _wait_ ," Spike said, looking rather annoyed and impatient. Just then, he caught a glimpse of a flash by the far end of the platform, "Oh, bloody hell, not now…," he huffed. As though the flash wasn't made apparent to the few people that were waiting for their late night ride, the demon that materialized where it had sparked, now did. People screamed and fled from the area, leaving the vampires to be the only other supernatural beings there. "I should have killed you right after that!" Spike growled at the thing. "I don't have bloody time for you, you prat!"

Elizabeth gasped at the sight of it, "After what? What happened?" she looked to her sire as she backed away from the two, not quite sure what to do. Scared and void of weapons, she stood back, hoping the train would arrive so they could make a quick escape.

"After our 'little exchange'," Spike said, "'cause it being the Angor Vorator demon and all- a demon that 'eats anguish'- loves to scavenge after us vampires," Spike explained. The grey demon staggered towards Spike, cocking its head as it moved closer, its moves erratic and disturbing as it hissed in Latin. "Bugger off!" Spike yelled, growing more irritable as he began to stalk towards it. He growled something back, and the two of them began to engage in some heated conversation. The demon appeared persistent, grinning as it showed its jagged and sharp teeth, flicking its long and tapered black tongue over its dark thin lips. Elizabeth watched them go back and forth, unsure with what to do until the train pulled up next to them. Taking a breath and a strong grip on her bag, she grabbed her sire and pulled him along.

"Get on the train, get on the train!" she said in a panicked tone as she pushed him inside past the porter, slamming the door shut, and fumbling with the latch to lock it; Spike was surprised that he was being ushered by the strength of the wiry-like girl. Having the stunned porter realise that there was some demonic apparition standing out on the platform almost daring to get on, he screamed for the train to go, despite having a waiting time for another five minutes.

"JUST BLOODY GO!" he screamed hysterically towards the conductor. The train whistled and the wheels slowly started to churn. Spike, not having time to properly gather himself, turned around to glance out the window to see the demon staring at him from the vacant platform. Spike gave him a wide-opened mouth grin, then lifted his index and middle finger up in a very British and derogatory salute as the train picked up speed and left them a good distance away from the demon.

"Good on you, little mouse," Spike said, giving Elizabeth a little pat on the head.

"T-thank you…," she panted, a small and shy smile appearing on her lips having been told she did a job well done.

"You all right, mate?" Spike looked to see the porter shrinking down in the corner of doors, legs shaking and a dark stain running along the inside of his pant legs. He moved his head back in slight disgust, "Right, I'll leave you to it then." Taking his own luggage, he led Elizabeth away from the quivering porter and found their own seats.

Elizabeth sank into her seat with relief. She looked up at the ceiling before closing her eyes as she thought how she had no idea how she had pulled that off- she had just reacted. A demon had run right at her and she had closed the door in its face. She smiled, feeling a little proud, but exhausted as her adrenaline began to wear off.

┼†‡

**Paris - November, 22 1880**

After the little kafuffle at the station in Brussels, Spike felt like those little nagging troubles were feeling less prominent and more distant with each churn of the wheels. Even the sound of the train whistle sent a little quiver of excitement down his spine. Elizabeth hummed to herself from time to time as she watched the scenery go by the window. The train ride itself was quiet as it usually was when people boarded the late ticket. Throughout the ride, Spike was also sure that the porter hadn't moved from his spot on the floor as he was too terrified to move. If he had known he wasn't going to have someone check their tickets, Spike might have saved a pretty penny- not that money was really an issue for him. The commute was just a tad bit shorter than the one from London to Brussels, but still, remaining seated for a few hours was a long wait, and a good chunk of time of night. When the train finally began to pull into the station, Spike couldn't help but smile; his face lit up like Christmas morning. He stood before the train had fully come to a stop and headed towards the doors, seeing that the man indeed had not moved from his spot and had taken to mumbling to himself. Another porter came from the adjoining cart to see why the doors hadn't yet been opened for their trolley and did just that.

"You might want to check on your mate there. Believe he's gone and soiled himself," Spike pointed out before he stepped off. Elizabeth gave the frightened porter a look of concern before leaving the train. Like the last time, a gentle breeze greeted Spike, "Ah, smell that Parisian, French air," Spike said, inhaling deeply with eyes closed. The clock at the station read a quarter past midnight.

"It is so beautiful…," Elizabeth said as she looked around her, listening to soft music fill the air from street musicians.

"The city of love, rightfully so," Spike nodded. "I wouldn't mind gettin' me a taste of some Parisian nectar," he gave a wry smile, heading off in an eager gait towards the streets. The Paris night was quieter than the streets of Brussels, but it didn't have a Jubilee celebration occurring at that moment, so the tranquility was a welcome and normal thing. Spike found the scenery prettier as well, seeing in the distance the architectural landscape of churches, the l'Arc de Triomphe, and Notre-Dame. But when examined at street level, in cesspools of street walkers and rats running amok along the gutters, it was just like any other over inhabited city. "I'd fancy meself a lady of the night," Spike said, eyeing the prostitutes that strutted themselves along like hens pecking a trail of feed. They beckoned to him when they saw him turn towards them in interest. Elizabeth turned her attention from the lovely scenery to that that made up for the city streets. At his statement, the girl looked at him with wide eyes.

"Bonsoir, monsieur!" they cooed, their hands on tiny waists cinched tight by corsets, making their bosoms appear plump and about to burst out the tops like swollen melons.

"Madames," Spike sang back just as coy, laughing and taking a couple of outstretched hands. The women gave Elizabeth odd and dirty looks, seeing as she was with him, and possibly would chase away potential money to gain. Elizabeth glanced down shyly in response."Not to worry, loves," Spike said, turning to look at his progeny, "she won't get in the way." Elizabeth glanced up at her sire at that before quickly glancing away as a light pink began to tint her cheeks.

"Eh!" one of the prostitutes snapped in Elizabeth's face to grab her attention. " _Casse-toi, gamine!"_  she spat, threatening her to get lost, a tone that was clear in any tongue spoken. Elizabeth looked at the women and took a step back, her brows furrowed to show her slightly bruised feelings.

Spike giggled as one of the women wrapped her arms around his neck, trying hard to get him to face her, "Now, girls, she's practically harmless," Spike tried to explain. "She's with me.  _Elle est avec moi_ , eh?" With her hands placed along their potential gentleman caller's cheeks, the woman finally managed to get Spike to turn to her. Standing silent, Elizabeth watched as the women draped themselves over her sire. The prostitute whispered something rapid, almost in a pleading tone as she dragged out the last syllables, "I got no idea what you just said, but I like the sounds of that," Spike laughed. The girls continued to glare daggers into Elizabeth, waving their hands for her to shoo as their voices grew louder, taunting her to leave. "She can watch? I have money.  _Beacoup d'argent_ ," he laughed. Elizabeth tried to look away by staring up at the night sky, but soon had her attention snapped to him as he suggested she watch. At the mention of money, the prostitutes' moods lightened and they didn't seem so threatened by Elizabeth's presence. "That is, if you'd like to," Spike smirked at Elizabeth, "or is this  _still_  not to your liking?" he let his luggage drop to the ground as he grabbed each girl by the waist and jerked them close to his body. Elizabeth's pale blue eyes widened in shock. As his smirk and burning gaze locked onto hers, her breath quickened and she bit at her lip nervously. "Gotta grow up some day, li'l mouse," he brought his mouth down close to one of the girl's necks and playfully gave it a little bite whilst keeping eye contact with Elizabeth, even managing to waggle his brows a bit. The girl gave a little yelp and giggled in response. "You think you can keep pure and chaste by huntin' the killers and the lepers, but sin is all around, love, and this just gets deeper the more world you see," he smiled, letting his chin rest against the prostitute's bare shoulder. Elizabeth's eyes were locked onto his and she could not look away. "Let's go,  _mes chéries_ ," Spike smiled at the two young women he had picked, pulling them close as he directed them away, "to the alley, make haste!" he called out, leaving the other girls to wait as the three walked away in the distance to a back alley. Elizabeth wanted to follow, having nowhere to go, but she would rather soon take her chances on the street than follow behind him.

The time it took for the trio to disappear from the others' sights was a short minute, followed soon by one muffled moan, then a few minutes passed before another echoed the first cry. The women there continued to keep their eyes locked on the innocent girl as she dared to idle with them, giving her dirty smirks as they heard their own kind giving the strange Englishman some unmentionable satisfaction. Spike returned soon after, all smiles, flush, and licking his lips.

"Ah, Elizabeth, glad to see you waited for me," he said, picking up his luggage where he had left it. Elizabeth blushed as she looked at him upon his return. "Shall we find somewhere to stay?" he beckoned for her to follow. The women watched as the strange pair began to leave, noticing soon that their two girls did not return from the alley after they had left. One gave instruction to one of the newer girls to see what was taking them so long, to discover that they were both lying dead on top of each other. A shrill scream could be heard in the distance as the vampires continued on their way.

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"Bloody hell, the streets are bloody confusing. Where does one find a hotel to stay at this time of night?" Spike muttered, finding nothing but small closed eateries, and tiny little apartment homes lining their wanderings.

After a long walk, Elizabeth pointed him to a nice looking hotel, "This place looks promising," she said hopefully as she walked beside him, hoping to find a decent place for the night.

"Suppose this is good as any," Spike surmised, stepping forward into the building. The place was dim and quiet considering the ungodly hour they decided to come in for a stay. Spike stepped up to the front counter this time, seeing no one there, he rang the desk bell, "Hellooo?" he called out, hearing a faint echo resound in the empty and cavernous halls. "Well, seems no one's home. Shall we help ourselves, then?" Just then, a quick flurry of clattering could be heard approaching the desk.

"Ah, bonsoir," the man greeted them, placing his spectacles atop of the bridge of his nose.

"Spoke too soon," Spike said, turning back around. "We noticed you have vacancies," Spike commented, indicating the luggage they were carrying within their hands.

The man glanced at them, then down at their luggage, "Ah, oui, we do, monsieur," he replied, his voice nasally and his accent thick. He flipped through a book and moved a white gloved finger down to see which rooms were available before pausing, "A large bedroom for a couple- bath included, south facing terrace with room service," he said without glancing up. "It is a honeymoon suite. Is that to your liking, monsieur?" he asked in a serious tone, lowering his head to gaze over his spectacles at Spike.

"Quite," Spike replied.

The deskman also gave Elizabeth a look over his glasses before he gave a little hum and picked up the keys, "Please, follow me," he walked briskly around the counter as he had a very serious air about his job. They were led up to a third floor to a grand room, much nicer than the one in Brussels.

"Don't bother having room service come up during the day unless we ring you," Spike requested, handing the man a tip to his white gloved hand.

"But of course, monsieur," he nodded. "Monsieur, madam," he said before excusing himself as he shut the double doors behind him.

"The rooms get bigger each time," Spike said, glancing at the space around him.

"Very nice. Much better than the last one," Elizabeth agreed as she walked around the room. It had an elegance about it- with the added luxury of not having anyone killed and a pile of dead bodies rotting in a corner during their stay. Setting down her bags, Elizabeth unpacked before walking to the bathroom to wash up and stepped out later in a nightgown. Her hair was pulled to one side as she began to braid it. As she sat on what was to be her side of the bed, she hummed to herself, then stood to turn down the sheets.

Spike set aside some clothes in the wardrobe he planned he'd need for the duration there, thinking that if things went smoothly, he might be able to leave sooner if he found Drusilla. After Elizabeth emerged from the bathroom, Spike entered and stripped down, giving himself a good and thorough wash. There were toiletries on the counter space for them to use, some elegantly bottled eau de parfumes that caused his nose to wrinkle when he sniffed them. He set them back down, thinking they weren't to his sensibility, and seeing as vampires didn't exactly smell the way that humans did, he wouldn't need them. Spike re-emerged into the bedroom, dressed only in his pants with his suspenders hanging off his waist, and the towel he used for drying around his neck. Elizabeth was turned away on her side of the bed, humming as she prepared herself for sleep. He took to his side and pulled down his corner of the covers, pausing as he marvelled at the sheets.

"Good God, these feel so smooth," he brushed a hand over the surface. "Silk? I think it's silk," he said. "I've never lain in silk sheets before," he continued, now removing his trousers to have him only in his underpants. He let them drop to the floor as he tugged the towel from his neck to have cast aside as well, "Have you ever slept in silk sheets?" he asked Elizabeth, not realising what state he might have been putting the poor girl in. He climbed into the bed, letting the smooth and cool covers glide over his skin, "Oh my God!" he cried, "this feels amazing!" he exclaimed. "You need to feel this against your skin, love, it's like velvet custard."

As she finished braiding her hair, Elizabeth ran her hand over the sheets, "They are very smooth. I've only slept in cotton," she replied before turning to him, only to snap her head back away to see him with no shirt and without any trousers on. This sent her into the same peculiar state that she was in when she was on the streets earlier that night.

"I could spend a proper day just in bed," Spike said, rolling around the sheets. He fanned his arms along the covers as though he were making snow angels, not paying much mind to Elizabeth. After settling in a comfortable position with the covers tucked beneath his arms, he gave a content sigh and turned over on his side away from her, "Night, then."

Elizabeth laughed at his antics and finally climbed into bed next to him. Looking up at the ceiling, she turned away and sighed. She thought back to the harsh rainstorms that would keep her from her gardens, confining her even more to her room as she'd lie in bed and watch the rain pour. Many would find that a depressing pastime, but for her it was peaceful. Midday naps to the sound of the rain, sitting on the window seat reading while lightning lit the sky- they were little things that made her happy, small things that gave her joy.

"Good night," she said with a sigh of relief as she began to close her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _Casse-toi, gamine! -_ Get lost, kid/brat!  
>  _Elle est avec moi -_ She is with me  
>  _Beacoup d'argent -_ A lot of money  
>  _mes chéries -_ my darlings


	8. Day 8: The Staircase of Notre Dame, Paris

Drusilla and Spike were odd and passionate lovers. Everything that made them so wrong was what made them perfect together. For instance, if Spike were a flame at the end of a candle, Drusilla would be a pile of dirty dish towels; if he were a fly, she would be the collection of dust bunnies underneath the bed. But that was perhaps their common thread- because they were so oddly mismatched, that was what drew them together so tightly. Spike adored her and she adored the demon in him.

"My little Spike," he heard her saying; her voice had a sing-song lilt to it, always as though she were elsewhere, somewhere distant. "We stick the pins and needles in the dolly, sing a lullaby, and put 'er to sleep," she lay in bed, turned away from him.

"'Course, my pet," he replied, drawing in closer to her. "What else do we do?" he asked, humouring her psychobabble.

"We ravish and eat her," she replied as though it were obvious.

Spike drew his arm around her waist and spoke into her ear from behind, "I'd like a bite." Again, unaware that his desires were so strong to see his lover, Spike had taken to holding Elizabeth in place of Drusilla's body and had spoken the last words out loud. Mirroring his actions from his dream, he opened his mouth and bared his teeth as he brought them down to her neck.

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As Elizabeth slept, her dream was not a dream, but a memory. Not of the horrific encounter she had had with Angelus, but from that night in the streets. Standing there, she stared into her sire's eyes as he dared her to join them in the alley. His smirk, the way his eyes locked onto hers… caused a warmth to spark in her. It was like the devil himself were staring into her, charmingly kind and cruel.

" _You think you can keep pure and chaste by huntin' the killers and the lepers, but sin is all around, love, and this just gets deeper the more world you see."_

Her sleeping form blushed, unable to mask what she felt in her sleep. And when he playfully bit at the woman's neck, so it happened in reality; it caused the little mouse to whimper that was unlike any sound she'd ever made before. Rolling onto her back, she became restless, shaking herself awake only to give a surprised, little yelp when she found herself in her sire's arms. Not wanting to wake him, she slipped from his grasp and scurried to the far side of the bed. She lay back down, but not before building a wall of pillows between them.

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The remaining hours of unconsciousness allowed visions of torture, biting, and blood, all in good company with his paramour and sire, Drusilla. It was a good dream, causing Spike to giggle in his sleep as he lay on his back against the silk sheets. Naturally, with the time of day turning to night, he awoke. His eyes opened languidly, but he woke with a grin on his lips. With a content sigh, he sat up in bed, still in the haze of his cozy dream, then hunched over to stretch his arms as he glanced to his side to see a fort wall of pillows.

"The bloody hell…," he knocked it down as it tumbled over onto Elizabeth's still form. "What the devil are you doing with these pillows?" Elizabeth woke to the feeling of them falling onto her. "Frankly, I'm a bit insulted," Spike said, a little indignantly. Elizabeth sat up and glanced at her sire as she softly sighed. He stood to wash up, muttering as he walked to the bathroom, "Think me a savage, do you? I don't go throwin' myself at just anyone-" he paused in his steps, "unless I plan to make a meal out of you. But," he continued, speaking in his defense once more, "I've a bit more class than that. Only got eyes for one lady," he shot a dirty look over his shoulder in Elizabeth's direction before slipping into the bathroom, totally unaware of the actions he had done in his comatose state.

Throughout that exchange, Elizabeth had said nothing. Her silence was warranted for many reasons- embarrassment, shame, and plain shyness. She felt bad that the wall had insulted him, but if only he'd known what had happened. Standing from the bed, she began to unbraid her hair as she looked in the wardrobe to find an outfit for the night, unaware of the light red ring on the side of her neck.

A cold and brisk splash of water to the face helped to distract Spike from his slightly bruised ego. After patting himself dry, he returned to the room to pull a clean shirt from the wardrobe, along with some grey coal trousers.

"I wish to prowl the streets alone tonight," he said as he pulled up his pants, clearly still feeling sorry for himself, "since, you know, I'm such a sinful man, just hurling myself at lone, defenseless girls," he prattled on. Elizabeth looked down with a saddened expression as he continued to berate her for his slander to his 'honour'. It hurt her that he thought her that vindictive, but she felt too embarrassed to tell him the truth. "God  _forbid_  I give you the wrong impression." He began to button up his shirt as he glanced at her, "Maybe if I feel up to- …," he trailed off as he noticed the distinct ring of teeth marks on her neck. He scrunched his brows quizzically, tilting his head as he tried to reason with himself, "Hey, that wasn't- …was it…?" He paused as he looked down to the floor, realising that no, he remembered well that those marks were not there before that night. And yes, they were there now. The only reason being was that it was not self-inflicted, which meant that the only other being that  _could_  have possibly done it was  _him-_  Spike. "Um, right, we… we could meet later at some landmark," he said a little more quietly, his gaze averted to the floor. He could not admit that he had unintentionally 'thrown himself at her' after giving such a scathing lecture. Clearly she didn't realise that there was a mark on her neck- he was grateful that they didn't have reflections at that moment- and if she didn't know, perhaps she wasn't aware that he had done it. "Um, was there a particular place you wished to go see?" he asked, carefully glancing back up at her.

Sitting down on the sofa, she let out a sigh and looked out the window, "Notre-Dame would be nice. I've always wanted to hear the bells."

"That won't be a problem, the bloody things ring every fifteen minutes," Spike replied. "Well, that settles it then," he said, straightening up, "Notre-Dame, when the bells strike at a quarter to seven." He flung his coat on, gave her a final glance, then strutted out the door. Elizabeth sighed as she shook her head before she finished changing, then also left.

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It was a lovely city, well, if she steered clear from where they were before. There were shops lining the roads, music in the air- it was beautiful. As she continued on with her walk, she grew hungry and decided to have supper early.

Hours later, the young vampire found herself sitting outside the Notre-Dame west facade as she waited for her sire. She peered up at the beautiful building as she was serenaded by the bells. Her eyes trailed upward towards the high steeples; falling to the stained glass rose window, the marbled colours now dimmed in the night; and then to the statues, watching over the city like silent guardians. The bells continued to toll, ringing sweet music that calmed her. She smiled, feeling comforted by the familiarity of her old life.

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Like before, Spike had approached the hotel's front desk to ask about any unusual incidents occurring within the city, and the concierge responded by allowing him to peruse the week's daily newspapers. Not before long, Spike had come across several stories about recent killings, some that even appeared more gruesome than things he had committed. He paused in thought, wondering if that would fit with Angelus, and decided to follow his first set of clues.

He started with the once downtrodden district of Montmartre, coming upon an open square where bohemians and artists had congregated. He glanced at them in passing, taking note of their disarray of state of dress, or altogether, neglect of appearances. He was aware of the hardships. Taking up the life of an artist was not a profitable form of living, and with what the men there could afford, had drawing pads placed in their laps, or had makeshift easels set up. But, they all had one thing in common- sketching or painting whatever still life they could set their eyes on. They had a look of hunger in their eyes, something Spike was once familiar with when he had tried to hone his own craft. He walked by slowly as he glanced at their studious sketches, wondering if they frequented that area on a regular basis. Taking his chances, he stopped in front of a small gathering of men.

"Excuse me, you hear about the murder here?" he asked slowly in the best French he could muster. The men peered up at him curiously, obviously aware that he was a tourist. "Were you here, then? Did you see it? Did you know the person?" he glanced to each man. The men looked among each other warily, some ignoring him completely and continuing on with their artwork, others simply shook their heads.

"He was an artist." Spike glanced up, having almost given up on them, and spun around to locate the voice. He found the one who had spoken, a man whose hair was a mess of unruly dark licks of mahogany and had a week's worth of a beard.

"You saw him?" Spike walked over to him as the man peered up at him from his easel, eyes bloodshot. "Tell me what happened."

"You know, there's a shop a couple streets down from here that sells an excellent pinot noir _._  It's been almost a month since I've had any. Unfortunately, it's too expensive to my liking. If you help me with that problem, I'd be more than happy to share the information you seek," the man smirked. Spike took a moment to process what he was saying, then sighed, rolling his eyes as his patience was tested.

He abruptly clutched the man at the throat and gave him a jerky shake, "See here,  _mon ami_ , tell me what you know. I don't have time for games, understand?" The surrounding men gaped at him in horror, scrambling up with their easels to flee the scene. There had already been a recent murder, and with the way this stranger was so hostile, made them suspect that he could have been the culprit.

"N-no! Please!" the man struggled to claw at Spike's grip, his attempts half-drunk and sloppy. "H-he was a friend! He was stupid! H-he got himself in trouble by involving himself with a woman. Her lover found out about him, and in a jealous rage had him killed!" he yammered. "P-please, don't kill me!" he pleaded, his eyes started to well over as he cried. Spike sighed and glared at him, more annoyed than angry at hearing the story.

"See, was it  _so_  hard to tell the truth?" he growled, giving him another shake.

"Eh! You there, stop what you're doing!" a man's voice called out. Spike turned to see a couple of policemen running towards him.

"Help! Please! He's trying to kill me!"

"Oh, bollocks," Spike sighed, releasing his grip and pushing the man back into the approaching officers. They caught the falling man, allowing Spike some time to make a quick getaway. He rounded around the bend of a building, slipping into the safety of a dark alley as he waited till the police had passed by. After a few minutes of silence, he crept back out and resumed his investigations to follow his next clue.

Wandering the streets of Montmartre, Spike came upon a more lively area; the streets were teemed with brighter and inviting lights, and the sounds of music beckoned to him. He was sure the next victim had been claimed there, had the nightlife didn't distract him. Though he didn't want to give up his hunch on getting lost in the distraction of dance halls and cabarets, he decided peeking around one of them might be good to see if it was worth the trip. Finding a small table, he ordered himself brandy, and sipped it as he enjoyed the show of frilly skirts and flamboyant dancing. He'd never seen anything so provocative, and if his mother were still alive, she'd have dragged him out of there by the ear. Despite his current situation, he had to admit, he was highly enjoying himself. He stayed for another show and ordered himself another drink. Before he realised it, time had escaped him, and he had stayed there for a couple hours.

Just as Spike was about to order himself his umpteenth glass, he noticed the little argument the stage manager was having with a couple of the dancers. They appeared agitated, outright scared- something he was quick to recognise seeing that he was one to usually be the cause of it nowadays. Standing up, Spike wandered off backstage, quickly ducking back and slipping behind a curtain to avoid one of the male guards. He turned into the women's changing room, glancing to see them dressing and undressing, flitting about in stockings and feathers and dramatic makeup. The one who had stormed off from the stage had seated herself at the far end of the long rows of vanity tables.

"Excuse me, ladies, but do you know anything about the recent murder around here?" he asked. The girls spun around to look at him, surprised to suddenly see some strange man in their dressing room.

"No," several shook their heads.

"Quick, the next number is about to start!" a couple girls rushed past and out the door.

"Time, girls!" Spike merely glanced amongst the hustle and bustle and looked back to the girl who remained seated in front of the mirror where she seemed to avoid his stare and focused on the application of her makeup. She knew something.

Wary of the mirrors, Spike detoured around them, and came up from behind the vanity where she was seated. "Tell me. I know you know something," he demanded, "was there a man involved?" The woman glanced up at him nervously as she set down her lipstick.

She blinked rapidly as she shifted her eyes away before nervously swallowing, "P-please, I-I don't want to get hurt," she stuttered.

"If you know something, I  _need_  to know," he persisted. This time, it was Spike who swallowed, "This man… he has the woman I love," he said a little quieter, his emotion escaping through his voice and expression. The woman glanced up at him as she felt some compassion to his situation.

"One of the dancers was lured away by a man. Long, dark hair, dark eyes. He had with him a woman- hair curled, large eyes, and white skin," she said softly. Their descriptions matched.

"Did you have a close look at her?" Spike took an eager step forward. "Did she appear safe? Was she all right?"

The woman nodded, "She looked sound." Spike sighed in relief as he pressed a hand to his chest. She woman continued to stare up at this strange man, feeling moved by the concern he had for his missing lover. "Would you… care for a drink?" she offered, standing up to get a decanter of amber liquid and a glass.

"Yes, please," Spike sighed as he rubbed at his forehead. She lifted the glass to his hand and watched as he greedily swallowed the strong liquor within seconds. Spike set down the glass on the vanity and glanced up as she approached him.

"I'm sorry to hear about your misfortune," she said softly as he placed a hand on his shoulder. He glanced down at her hand, then looked back up at her face as she loomed in closer. "If there is anything I could do to help you forget, for just a moment…," she whispered, her lips grazing his cheek as she spoke.

"You can," he replied, just as quiet. She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, then slowly began to bend forward for a kiss, "Do you have somewhere more private?" Spike asked, interrupting her.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Show me."

Pulling him into a back storage room, she clamboured on top of some boxes as she continued to tug Spike towards her. Not needing more convincing from her, Spike pushed her down and forced her head to the side. She gave a small whimper as he inhaled deeply, letting his lips brush against the side of her throbbing vein. As she lay waiting for his mouth to clamp against her bare neck, she did not expect the shearing pain that accompanied it. She began to scream and struggle, only to have her cries cut off from the iron clamp of his hand. Spike suckled from her neck deeply and passionately, pressing her down harder against the crates she had so voluntarily perched herself on. Within a couple minutes, her struggling had all but stopped, and the vampire drew up from her and licked his lips as he savoured her taste. He opened his eyes as he heard the distant chimes of bells in the distance, reminding him of the promise he had made to meet Elizabeth. He pulled out his pocket watch and realised that it was already eight o'clock. Stumbling out of the cabaret, he hurried towards Notre-Dame, knowing well that he was already late.

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He could see the great cathedral from the distance as he drunkenly ambled forward, "Bloody hell, it's farther than it appears to be," he huffed, trudging along in a hurried manner. The ringing had long stopped, so he wondered if Elizabeth had bothered to wait for him. Closing in the distance, he finally spotted the familiar form of a young woman seated in front of it nearby. "Must 'ave had a long gander," he called out as he approached with measured pace. Elizabeth turned her head at the familiar voice from behind her. "Didn't think you'd bother to wait." He bent at the waist to look down at her, smelling of cigarette smoke, cheap perfume, and alcohol. Whatever had caused him to be so late was probably clear with the scents that clung to him.

Coughing a little at his smell, Elizabeth stood and looked up at the church again with a sigh, "I enjoyed it. It was so peaceful," she said as she walked past him. From the way that he smelled, she figured it would be a good idea not to nag him about returning to their room.

"Must 'ave been a treat," he commented, slowly trailing behind her. "Now, hold on," he said, "not in any rush on headin' back, are we?" He waited to catch her attention, "I haven't had my roundabout yet," he said pointedly, turning around to behold the grand scale of the building. "Bloody thing isn't something to be missed," he turned back around to face her, "so I've heard." Without much reconsidering, he began to head towards the cathedral. He was very well aware that the church had been closed for the past couple hours, but he still decided to go along with his plans, "C'mon, love, let's get to it. We'll have a little private tour of our own." Elizabeth stared at him with wide eyes. Brawls and killing sprees were one thing, but breaking into a church was a whole other matter for her.

"Y-you mean to break into Notre-Dame?" she asked as she rapidly walked past him, seeming to block him in his path. It was true, she wanted very much to go inside, but not this way. She wondered why he had to do things like this.

Spike paused to look at her as she instinctively placed herself between him and the door, using her own body as a barricade, "No, I'm going to open it with the key the Pope left me," he said sarcastically. "C'mon now, love, ain't this what you've longed to see? Your unbeatin' heart must be calling for you to follow your wishes." Placing his hands on her shoulders, he moved her aside. From the impressive facade, he had chosen the portal on the right. Although smaller than the ones in the centre, the intricately designed double doors stood at an impressive thirteen feet. Spike's gaze slowly followed the wood panel up, pressing his palms against it to get a feel. "Well," he said, pushing himself off it and taking a small step back, "I've already encountered a problem. We've got no handles." He turned on his heel, "Stay put. I'll find another way," Spike huffed, sounding rather determined. Elizabeth sighed as she moved aside, allowing her sire to slip past her as he began to prowl the perimeter. She shook her head, knowing the endeavor to stop him would be useless. Instead, she settled down outside the doors as she looked up at the night sky and waited. Spike had disappeared around the corner and was gone for a long while. After several minutes, some sounds of metal scraping across locks could be heard from inside, followed by the creaking of a door, then more bolts being turned. Elizabeth turned around and glanced up. Finally, one of the large doors heaved open, slowly creaking inward as Spike poked his head out to meet Elizabeth's, "You coming? May as bloody well, since I've already got it open." He pulled his head back in and left the door agape. Whether Elizabeth wanted to follow in his footsteps or not was for her to decide. She stood, and with some reluctance, walked in.

Inside, the ceilings were infinitely high, the aisles appeared endless, and the floors were pristine. Although the damage from the French Revolution was still present, the restoration did well to restore the cathedral's natural and magnificent beauty. Every small movement they made seemed to amplify and echo in that quiet space.

"It's… glorious…," Elizabeth breathed as she slowly walked down the nave, her head turning as she glanced at each column. Her eyes followed the spectrum of colours the moonlight made as it poured through the stained glass windows. She walked to the main altar and she sat down on the step in front of it, turning her gaze around to the rest of the church in all its splendour as if she were seeing an old and dear friend.

"Thought you'd have a change of heart," Spike said, poking at the candles. He turned to glance up and around the area, sharing the same sentiments that Elizabeth so openly expressed. Even though they were in a house of God, he could not deny the beauty of the architecture and artwork- it was breathtaking.

Spike stepped down one of the lesser aisles as his fingers brushed along the tops of the pews he passed, having a thought that if he had remained human, he'd have been walking down an aisle like this on his wedding day.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, taking in the momentary silence of the church, and feeling that despite all of this, she belonged there. Sadly, her peace was interrupted. Spike stopped short and jumped on top of one of the pews; the sound of his boots slamming against the wood ricocheted throughout the wide spaces.

He took a seat on the backrest, "I can't imagine how someone can come here every day and stay seated. And for what? What is there to do here but listen to a half-dead man prattle on about bollocks?"

"To pray; to find comfort and peace. The teachings of peace, virtue, and faith… nothing to be called… nonsense," Elizabeth said as she looked back at the altar with a longing sigh. Spike sprang from his spot, landing crouched low as the end of his coat flapped up behind him. Straightening up, he strutted over to where some tapestries were hung against a wall, and lifted it to take a peek behind.

"Ha, lookit this," he said, glancing over his shoulder at Elizabeth. He pulled it back some more to reveal markings and etchings on the wall behind it. "Look at the amount of obscenities the French Revolution left behind," he cackled. "I'mma leave my mark here, too. Quick, find me a knife. I think a big ol' 'Spike' scrawled out over here would look good, wouldn't it?" he mused, smiling to himself. Elizabeth walked up to him and gave him a light shove.

"Those people were misguided and sacrilegious scoundrels. The monarchy was wrong but this should never have happened," she said as she placed a hand on the wall before pulling the tapestry from his grasp and covered it.

Spike laughed at Elizabeth's reaction, "What? Have I struck a nerve, Saint Mary?" He placed a hand over his heart, feigning penitence as he drew his brows together and low, looking down as he jutted out his lower lip in a pout. If he'd only known how he had appeared, he'd find he was rather good at expressing sorrow and sadness on his face. Spike quickly took to a chuckle and mischievous grin, "Oh, come to it,  _Elizabeth_ ," he said, stepping past her, "those were the words of the people. They could no longer be oppressed, their voices needed to be heard!" his voice boomed loudly as he shook his fist in the air. " _Vive la r_ _é_ _volution! Vive la r_ _é_ _volution!_ " he chanted as he marched back to the altar. Once there, he began to poke around for something sharp, "Not gonna help me? Fine. And like the French liberals, I shan't be repressed!" he said, procuring a brass candle snuffer. He broke off the cupped end, leaving a rather sharp skewer in its place, and marched back to the wall. With the impromptu skewer in his left fist, he pulled back the tapestry with his right.

Elizabeth covered her mouth in shock. Not only was this place sacred to her, but it was also to a countless many, and God Himself. For once, there was no look of sadness on her face, but rather one of anger. Shaking in her simmering emotions, she remembered her life from before; even now, the church was still very important to her. She clenched her fists, quickly walked up to her sire once more, and greeted him with a harsh push before he could touch the wall, sending them both plummeting down.

"Wha-" Spike had scarce time to respond as he was knocked to the floor; what little air was present in his lungs was forced out.

As she wrangled herself on top of him, her kind and evasive blue eyes now appeared as piercing, cold daggers. Though she was timid, she was anything but that as she peered down at him in anger, something that rarely happened. Elizabeth trembled out of pure rage; her eyes were cold and nearly welling from frustration, having something she cherished so insulted.

Spike was at a loss for words, actually caught by surprise this time. But it only took him a few seconds to recover as he began to laugh, "This what you've been hidin' all along, huh? Gotta say, it's always the quiet ones, isn't it?" he raised a brow. Elizabeth's face began to flush as it had on the street the night before, and her timid and kind eyes quickly returned to their normal state. "Bit of a hypocrite, aren't you? Makin' me the predator when all along," he laid back and placed his hands beneath his head as he smiled up at her, "you've been wantin' to take the lead. That how you like it? Gettin' poor, little ol' Spike when he's down and most vulnerable, and then you can have your ways wit' 'im, hmm?" He bit down on his lower lip, "Promise you'll be gentle with me. I've never been taken by a nun before," he fluttered his lashes innocently at her.

Elizabeth gave a small whimper and quickly got off of him, shuffling away as she stood to her feet. Looking down, she clasped her left hand to her right arm as she backed into the shadows, trying to hide her blushing cheeks. Without another word, she began to walk towards the doors.

Spike took to fits of laughter at the look on her face. "What? Is that it?" he called from the floor as she marched off, "Not even a nibble? I was expecting more from you, Elizabeth. At least hurt me a little!" he called out. As he stood, his laughter died down to a small chuckle. He dusted off his front, "Wait, Elizabeth, don't leave. I need to know your last name. Quick! Tell me!" he said urgently, sounding earnest.

She looked angry as she marched off, but her face was one of embarrassment as she vividly remembered her dream, something that only rubbed salt into her wound. Hearing his laughter echo around her, she trembled a bit as her walking slowed down. She stopped in front of the doors as a soft breath was made audible, "Lorn." Spike watched as she quietly and dramatically left. Elizabeth took a step out into the night air and sat outside to compose herself.

"Well," he bent to pick up the skewer that was flung out of his grasp and returned to the wall, "Eli…za…beth… Lor…n…," he said slowly as he carved her name into the wall behind the tapestry. Blowing at the dust when he had finished, he took a step back to marvel at his penmanship, "Your name is now a sign of sacrilege in the house of God." Smiling, he gave his palms a couple of smacks to free them of dust. He paused as he turned his head at an angle, peering at the wall a little more intently, "Something doesn't look right…," he said, squinting his eyes. "Oh right, of course." Taking the liberty of gouging large capital letters of his own name, he scrawled it across boldly and on top of some of the previous words. "Better," he said, admiring his handiwork. He let the skewer drop with a clatter and dusted his hands once more.

As he turned to leave, he couldn't help but notice the confessional booth to the side, "When's the last time you've had a confession?" Spike called out to Elizabeth, walking over to that dark area. "You know, they aren't always used to absolve sins," he continued in a loud voice, "a lot of the times they're used to make 'em, if you know what I mean," he laughed, springing one of the doors open. He stood in place as he glanced around the interior, "Last person was a lady," he sniffed. "Bet you not many words were used to confess," he ducked in, tracing his fingers along the wooden box inside, then slumped down on the seat. "Oh," he said, his eyes widened as he noticed something shoved in the corner crevice of the seat, "found something!" Pulling it out, he emerged from the booth and slammed the door shut behind him, "Aha! A garter!" he held it up in his hand like a trophy. "I was… was…," his arm lowered and he looked at it; as he neared the door, the item in question grew more visible with the light from outside. It was made of pink lace with small green flowers embroidered around on one side. Spike brought it to his nose and inhaled as he stepped up beside Elizabeth, quiet.

Elizabeth's eyes now held something worse than anger. Pain. Pure pain as she sat in silence, listening to him mock everything she had ever stood for, everything about the church that she loved. When was her last confession? The night he killed her. She had confessed to the priest that she held some anger against her family, that she was afraid she was not being loyal to them, and that she sought counsel by heeding her call to God. That, along with her own decision, it would be good penance to join the abbey. Looking into the night as she saw the occasional passerby on the street, she heard her sire come outside, but did not look at him.

"Don't," she whispered softly, pain dripping in her voice. She was not crying, just looking out into the night as her heart clung to the little comfort of the church that remained.

Spike gazed at the ground in front of him without focus as his mind got lost in his own thoughts. Slowly, a smile grew on his lips. He pocketed the garter, stepping forward ahead of his progeny, "'Don't'? Need to be more specific, girl," he gave a chuckle, lifting his face up to smile at the stars and moon present on that clear night. He continued to walk, leaving the great cathedral doors wide open. He'd assume no one would dare go in and loot a church, but then again, that had happened after the revolution. He gave an indifferent shrug to that thought; he didn't care.

Elizabeth shook her head and sighed, standing to follow him back to their hotel room. Her nice night in the city she had only dreamt about was now spoiled by her sire.

┼†‡

When Elizabeth entered the room, she got ready for bed with hardly a word. It was always difficult to determine what sort of temperament she held at times because of her timid nature and affinity to silence, and knowing this, Spike initially took no notice of her. He knew how his wanton remarks on the religion of her previous life had infuriated her, but he didn't think she would hold onto that the entire night. It was apparent with the way she avoided exchanging any words with him after, something that might have been deemed normal for her tacit behaviour, but she had not even bothered to turn her head in acknowledgement to glance in his direction. She reassembled her little wall of pillows, then lay on her side, keeping her back to her sire as she closed her eyes. Spike raised a brow at that, but thought there was no way to dissuade her otherwise.

"Catty little mouse," he remarked as he lay back on his side of the pillows. He did not care so much what she might have been feeling because he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts. He pulled the garter out from his pocket- a discovery that Elizabeth was not aware of nor had any idea what it might have meant to him- and wrapped it around his wrist. Hugging one of the larger pillows to his body, he made sure to keep the lace garter by his nose so he could smell it while he slept. Then like his progeny, Spike turned to his side, faced away as he mirrored her, but slept contently and happily with a smile on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, the title of this chapter has nothing to do with the Notre-Dame staircase. It's just a fitting poem title (like all the rest of the chapters- did you notice?) that described Notre-Dame's beauty.
> 
>  **French Translations**  
>  _mon ami -_ my friend  
>  _Vive la r_ _é_ _volution! -_ Long live the revolution!


	9. Day 9: Ode to Duty

While Elizabeth slept, she dreamt she was sitting in the pews of the cathedral. Moonlight shone through the windows, pouring a stream of colours in all around her as she listened to the bells ring. She could have forever sat there in the tranquility and calmness; it was a place where she felt happy and at peace. Though she found solace and comfort in the church, it was not because her parents were cruel, but they were too concerned with upholding the image of their status as aristocrats to properly care for her. She would often see fathers swinging their daughters through the streets, mothers skipping rope with them- things that she hated to admit to having envied. She had wealth, influence, and at a whim, anything a girl could want, but it was the simple little things that she craved.

┼†‡

Throughout the day, Spike had managed to stay on his side during sleep, which was good for both Elizabeth and him. When he awoke, he punched the wall of pillows with an outstretched arm, sending them tumbling down over Elizabeth as he had done the day before. Feeling satisfied, he got up from bed and headed towards the bathroom to get ready.

Elizabeth woke, turning to catch her sire slipping into the bathroom.

She got up from bed and began to brush her hair, "A little hurried today?" she asked softly as she glanced at the empty doorway before looking out the window to the streets below.

"Talking to me now, are we?" he leaned his head back to look into the bedroom at Elizabeth. He disappeared from view once more as he finished cleaning up, then emerged from the bathroom to put on his trousers, "Thought you'd still be stewing from last night," he teased. "Well, I try to keep myself busy. You can only fit so many hours in a night," he said, almost completing his attire as he buttoned up his vest. Grabbing his coat from where it hung on the sofa's armrest, he slipped something hidden from his hand in the inner pocket, then flung it on.

Elizabeth nodded and began to get ready herself. She actually liked being on her own, even though she liked his company from time to time. It was curious to see him act this way, as if he was on a mission of some sort. After she was dressed, she walked next to him, "Are we going our separate ways tonight?"

"Right you are," he gave a small tilt of his head and directed an uncaring smile at her. "Well," not having any more words to exchange, he turned on his spot and walked out the door, not bothering to wait for her.

┼†‡

Without another word, Elizabeth walked out of the hotel with the key in her purse as she made her own way around the city. Stopping at a creperie, she had herself a crepe with some tea as she enjoyed the music and nightlife at her small table. She bought some flowers as she made her way back to the church, entering to see a priest lighting candles. He looked to her in surprise when he noticed her.

"Oh! You startled me, child," he said kindly in French.

"Forgive me for frightening you. I just love the sound of the bells and saw the door still open," she answered with a smile.

"Someone tampered with them last night. Is something troubling you?" he asked as he walked closer.

"I… have been through a lot this past week or so."

"Well, perhaps this is the right place for you. I'll leave you be," he said. He walked away, leaving her to sit by herself.

Looking at the altar, Elizabeth sighed as she took out her gloves and put them on so she could read the bible in silence. At that moment, she felt perfectly safe and at peace. After sitting there for a few hours in her quiet solitude, she left the flowers on the altar and walked out of the church.

As she walked along the streets, her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the cries of a child screaming. She ran towards the sound to see a man pulling a small girl by the arm. Coming up behind him, she yanked him away and pushed him into the wall, then scooped the child up into her arms.

"Where's your mama, love?" she asked in a hurried tone, not before seeing a frantic woman running towards them. She returned her to the ground, "Go on, little one, it's all right now," she said gently. Walking back to where she left the would-be kidnapper, she let the demon in her reveal itself, advancing silently towards the man as he tried to scoot away. Grabbing him by the neck, she sank her fangs into him and drank until she was full. She left the corpse there on the ground as she walked down the road, humming to herself.

┼†‡

Spike followed up on another string of murders from his newspaper clippings to a clustered area of Montmartre where the poor resided. This was close to a hospice. He wasn't sure about this one, since this was a place where the sick went and many died, but decided to look into it for good measure. He perched himself on the rooftop terrace on the building next door as he observed people walking in and out of the hospice from a safe distance.

"Eh! What how did you get up here? You are not allowed on this property; you're trespassing!" a man called out, startling the spying vampire; the guard placed a hand on Spike's shoulder from behind. Spike glanced at him from the side, giving him a sly smirk before he grabbed hold of his arm and twisted it, repositioning them so that he now had his grip on the man's arm and neck.

"How convenient. A meal and a show," he quipped, not wasting any more time as he sank his fangs into the man's neck. The man spasmed within Spike's grasp as the vampire took his fill, fighting for air and his life till he stopped struggling. Spike straightened himself up as soon as he was done and released his hold. Though the body was supposed to fall in a heap on the terrace rooftop, gravity had other plans. Spike's eyes widened as he realised what was happening, reaching an arm out as the body swayed away from him and began to topple over the edge of the roof. He peered down as it went crashing down with a rather loud and audible bone crunch and wet splatter to the ground below. "Oh… bugger…," he whispered as people on the street began to scream. Spike glanced farther up the street as the police were quickly alerted; people had spotted him on the roof and pointed up at him. He sighed as he saw the police start to run towards the building. Without another thought, Spike headed down the stairs as quickly and proficiently as he could. He slowed down as he approached the street to avoid arousing any more unnecessary suspicion. He had made some good distance between that area, and thought he had been safe, until a couple of policemen called at him from behind.

"You there, stop where you are."

"We'd like to ask you a few questions." Spike ignored them and continued to walk on.

"Eh, we're talking to you! We are the police! Stop!" Again, the vampire did not bother to turn around, and only quickened his pace. The police did so as well. Not before long, Spike took off into a run, only causing the two officers to chase after him. One managed to grab him by the arm, but Spike simply shrugged him off, flinging him aside with ease and into a wall. The other officer prepared his baton and had it cast down in one mighty swoop, only to have it caught within the hand of the assailant- with the face of a demon.

Spike growled as he grabbed him, pushing him against the wall, then sank his teeth into him before snapping his neck. The first officer stirred on the ground as he tried to regain his footing, only glancing up to see the back of the man walking away from them, having witnessed nothing that had happened to his now dead partner.

Spike wiped at his mouth as he stepped past the shady alley of the hospice, not realising that his vampire face would be recognised by someone from inside the building. A sickly boy lay in one of the cots as he watched out the dark window, finding the walking man's face just like two faces he had seen from before.

Spike lapsed back into his normal face before stepping out to the open streets. Grimacing as he saw the police beginning to form a blockade around the felled body, he found his plan was spoiled and would not see a good opportunity to further investigate that area. He left in disappointment. Following the other clues within the city had all but turned out to be natural causes of the human world, mostly due to pickpockets or thieves. Now in a much fouler mood, Spike decided to end his searches for that night.

┼†‡

What started out as a good evening had become very disappointing for the male vampire. With a scowl set on his face, he strut along the dark streets, deciding whether he might either get one last thrill for the night, or maybe drown himself in alcohol. He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts, that he nearly crashed into someone as he rounded the bend.

"Watchit!" he growled, soon realising who it was. "Oh, it's  _you_ ," he glowered at Elizabeth, catching a bit of her good natured hum. Elizabeth gasped a she caught herself when she bumped into her sire. "What are the odds I'd be running into you on the street," he scoffed.

Looking at him with a raised brow, she answered, "I was out for a walk. Are you all right?" her voice was filled with concern and caution. It seemed there was a lot more bothering him than simply running into her.

"Right as rain," he said, continuing to strut ahead of her, "if the sky rained fire and brimstone." He stared ahead of him as he walked, "Should celebrate by drowning meself in drink, right? Methinks it a sound idea."

"Or you can talk about it," she suggested as she began to walk behind him, thinking what she could do. She had already had supper and gone for a lovely walk, perhaps she could turn in early or return to the church for a while. As insufferable and crude as her sire was, he was the only friend she had in the world now. Might as well be there for him.

"'Course you'd want that," Spike replied. "Next you'll have me stuffed in a confession box revealing all the good evil I've done."

"I was trying to be helpful," she said as she walked closer to him.

He paused to turn to her, sniffing, "You've gone back, haven't you?" He gave a little cackle, "Should pay them another visit myself; bag me a priest. Their virtuous blood would help with a 'spiritual' cleansing," he laughed.

"Don't go back there," she said softly, her eyes pleading with an anger simmering just beneath them. That place and her memories of her former life meant too much to her; they were the only things she clung to.

Causing her some distress amused Spike, allowing him to forget the mood he was in moments ago, "Oh, but you make it so difficult; makes me want to go all the more," he grinned. He strolled in front of her, walking backwards as he taunted, "Who's gonna stop me, huh? The hand of God?" he laughed. "Lightning hasn't struck me yet, and it ain't gonna any time soon. Face it love, he ain't watchin' anymore."

Elizabeth stared at him in shock as she thought of the kind old priest she had seen in the church, now fearing for his safety. Clenching her fist, she followed him closely and quickened her step at his remark, "Yes, He is," she whispered. She did not want to make a spectacle of herself in public as she wanted to protect the church, but unfortunately, her anger was getting to her.

"Oh, He is, is He?" Spike drew his hands together in front of him and gave a shrug, "So, He must have bore witness to all the nasty things you've done- murder, stealing, lying," he raised his hand and a finger with each item, "and, the most surprising," he chuckled, saying to her face as he stepped towards her," _yearning._ " Elizabeth's face stood firm. She knew she had to kill to live, so she killed what humanity had to offer; she only took what was left of the poor souls her sire had killed, and did not object when he had claimed she was his wife. But when the subject came to yearning, she tried to keep her face from faltering. Spike spun around and continued on his trek, "'Thou shalt not covet', love," he laughed, "how many dirty desires you've got hiding in that dead heart of yours?" None thus far, she thought, at least that's what she believed to be so. He continued, "That's practically half of the bloody Ten Commandments. Making good headway, there," he commented.

"Don't go," she said softly with an underlying tone. It was not a plea, but a warning.

"Compelling as your argument might be," he cocked his head to the side and scrunched his face up as though he were thinking hard about it, "mm, no," he looked back up at her and gave her a devilish smile. He continued onward, his pace never faltering.

Elizabeth gave a light growl as she ran ahead of him into the church as fast as she could.

"Really, now?" he called after her. "Running ahead won't do much. If you want a chase, love, you got one!" he laughed, starting to run after her.

Once inside, Elizabeth quickly searched around till she found the old cleric praying.

"Father!" she cried as he turned to look at her.

"Oh, you again. Why, my child, what is wrong?" he said as he rested his hands on her shoulders.

"Go to your quarters, bar the doors, and answer for no one," she said with urgency in her voice and eyes.

"Bar my door? What is wrong?"

"Someone is following me here. Someone horrible. You have to believe me. Go!" she said as she pushed him ahead of her, watching him run as she heard the door creak from behind her.

Spike smashed into the cathedral, pushing the door open loudly as the sound boomed like thunder, "Elizabeth," finding her standing alone, "where're you hiding the priest?" He stalked towards her, a glint of mischief in his eyes and a smirk on his face. This was all in good fun for the vampire, though the outcome would be a fatal one for an innocent.

Elizabeth stood tall, strong, and slightly fearless like her sire, "You will not hurt him," she said as she looked him dead in the eyes. Standing in front of the altar with the candles behind her, she looked like a guardian of the church. In some small way, by guarding the church and the priest, she was guarding the little things she clung to, to the things that made her happy. Her sire would not take those away, she would not let him.

Spike began to laugh at her short and tiny stature, standing so defiantly to defend something that would not hesitate to betray her if they knew what she truly was, "Won't I, though?" Spike glanced to the side behind where Elizabeth stood, finding a humble doorway that appeared to be some passage for clergymen. He glanced back at Elizabeth, and darted towards the door, "This where they're hiding? Don't put your eggs all in one basket, love, your mum ever taught you that?" he cackled. "Makes things too easy!"

Elizabeth stared with steely eyes. The door simply lead to a labyrinth of halls and doors. "Leave. If you must torment me, so be it. But you will not hurt them!" she said as she took a step closer to him and clenched her gloved hands. Her pale blue eyes glinted with a fire that seemed to burn brighter when he tormented and mocked her for all that she stood for.

Spike sighed, "Suppose that's my prerogative, but 'tis yours the same to feel tormented," he replied. "It's not my intention to hurt, I just want to kill them," he said, partially lying, "at the very least, one. Isn't my fault they feel pain before they die at my hand." Turning back to the door, he gave it a good kick with his boot then peered inside. As it was too dark to see, Spike took a candle off the altar to help guide him. "It's a bloody maze," he breathed as he stepped in, "but it builds up the anticipation," he laughed.

She let out another little growl as she walked quickly behind him and grabbed him by the shoulders. Yanking him out of the hallway, she pushed him hard to the stone floor as she elicited a low growl out of him, "You will not get to them!" she said in a more commanding tone as she stared down at him; the little mouse was getting brave.

"You're starting to get rather annoying!" he threw his arm out and flung her off of him, throwing her several feet away. Elizabeth screamed as she fell to the ground and groaned in pain. "Now, be like the quiet little mouse you are and scamper off!" he gestured with his hand. He stomped back down the hallway, ramming in several of the doors with his shoulder to find the rooms quiet and empty. "Quick! I need a priest! Father, come! I have sinned!" he called out and cackled as he furthered his advances.

Looking at him walking down the hall, she pulled herself up and grabbed one of the candelabras, breaking the top portion off like he had done with the snuffer the night before, and followed after him as he went from door to door. Walking up behind him, she took her makeshift staff in both hands and swung it at his back with all of her strength. There were no more pleas or commands to leave; she was going to hurt him, do anything to keep the priests safe at all costs.

"Ow!" Spike howled, ducking over as he was bludgeoned from behind; he staggered a foot forward to prevent himself from falling. "The bloody hell!" he stood, turning to face her as he glared. "What did you do that for? You insolent harlot!" He moved forward to grab the staff from her grasp, "Give me that!" Elizabeth only held onto it tighter, her leather gloves giving her good grip. Looking into his eyes, the rage he found so refreshing and amusing was back.

"I do not want to harm you, but I will if need be," she said in an even tone. His cry from pain and directed insult seemed to have no effect on her face.

"Let me make the decision easier for you then, love," Spike pulled the staff with a jerk, bringer her in closer to him. "No more dirty moves; I'll let you have the first blow, front and centre," he smirked. "Might even get a taste for it," he laughed.

She momentarily faltered, but it was brief, for his laughter brought the anger back into her eyes. Not even nodding in acknowledgment, she took back the staff and gave him another solid blow. Spike doubled forward, clutching his gut as a muffled sound escaped his lips. If she was to protect the clergymen, she was going to fight to the best of her ability; this was coming from a timid young woman being pushed to her breaking point.

Spike gave a little cough, then heaved himself up to stand as he began to laugh, "Not shy now, are we?" He sped forward with his arms outstretched and locked as he hooked his hands onto her shoulders, using her body to smash through the door behind her as they both pummeled through it. This time it was he that was straddling her, "And now it's my turn," he said with a small smile and dangerous glint to his eye.

Elizabeth yelped and hissed in pain as her back hit the stone floor. Looking up into the eyes of her sire, she tossed her shoulders as she tried to knock him off while blindly patting at the floor for something to use as a weapon. Spike held fast to her, smashing her back to the floor as she tried to shake him off. He spotted the candelabra staff within a short distance from them and kicked it aside, letting it skid farther from their reach.

"What are you without the reliance of weapons, eh? You're a bloody vampire, for God's sakes," he pushed off of her and stood, going back to retrieve the metal fixture and hurried down the passages, now completely swathed in darkness. Getting up, she ran after him, hissing through pain with only the sounds of his footsteps to guide her. She did not know this cathedral, but thankfully, save for the clerics, neither did he.

Elizabeth was full of determination, and at that moment, bravery. Running as fast as she could, it was a sick game of cat and mouse. She eventually found him in her sights and was at a loss for weapons. Grabbing him by the back of his coat, she sank her teeth into his shoulder just like that fateful night.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Spike howled, feeling the pierce of her fangs cut into his shoulder like daggers. Like a cat holding onto its prey, she took a step back and let go to push him into a wall; his head was knocked back against it as she pinned him. It was a new sight to see- her young and sweet face full of anger and resentment, the blood of her sire trickling down her chin. She was learning a warped version of her lesson- if she wanted something, she would do whatever it would take to see it done. She did not want the clerics harmed, so she would fight for them.

"Now that's more like it," he said, seeing the demon reveal itself in her. Grinning and laughing, he delighted in this game; he morphed into his vampire facade and hurled himself at her, slamming her back into a column, causing bits of stone and mortar to crumble from the impact. She cried out in pain. "Dancing now, are we? Hope you can keep up, love, I tend to lead a little fast." He picked her up by the waist, lifting her high above him before hurling her across the space down the hall. "Now," he took a few steps forward as he ran a hand through the mass of his dishevelled hair, "where was I?" He sniffed at the air and turned his head, picking up the scent of humans nearby.

Elizabeth lay stunned on the floor before pushing herself up, only managing to stumble a bit before falling back to the floor and unable to stand. She trembled, but forced herself to keep moving, knowing her sire must have been close to finding them by now. Tears streaked down her face as she prayed to God, that they would be under His protection, and that they would heed her warning. Unable to move any farther, their lives were now in God's hands.

┼†‡

Spike glanced around the dark corridor, smelling the scent of the men grow stronger. With a turn of his head, he heard the sounds of quiet prayer behind a specific closed door. He stalked towards it, a sinister grin matching his demon face.

"Open the door," he banged on the door with his fist, hearing the sounds of startled cries and panicked whispers, "I know you're in there, fathers,  _mes pères_. I'm in dire need of some enlightenment," he laughed. The sounds of prayer from within only quickened before Spike smashed in the door with a jolt of his boot. He grinned as he peered at the canon regulars huddled in kneeled prayer by dim candlelight. One of them spoke, a prayer or scripture from the bible, but Spike only picked up the few words of 'God', 'demon', and 'out' with the limited French that he knew. He glanced around the doorframe as he remained standing outside, then slowly, took a step forward. Starting to laugh, he spread his arms out before him with his palms upwards, "God isn't here to stop this from happenin'," he laughed. "If only your home wasn't built within a church," Spike chortled, bending low to grab the closest man by the collar. The man made a sign of the cross with his hand and shut his eyes as he mumbled a prayer. "Little that does,  _père_ ," Spike smiled, only to hiss when the man brought out a real cross from within his robe. His voice grew louder as he held it closer to Spike's face, and the vampire winced, dropping his hold on the man as he took a step back. The other canons stood, armed in prayers of God, bibles, and crosses as they began to move towards him. "Oh, c'mon!" he hissed, smacking the cross away from the first man and grabbing him close once more. "Come closer and I'll snap his head like a chicken," Spike threatened, his fingers clutched around the priest's throat. He pulled him out with him as the other men hovered hesitantly within their quarters.

"Elizabeth, look what I found!" he called out into the dark hall, wanting to rub this into her face. "Believe he's a friend of yours, I call him 'Father'," he laughed, keeping a grip on the man's arm and his fingers encircled around the priest's neck. "Well, what are you doing there, love?" he noticed her dark huddled form on the floor.

Elizabeth weakly turned her head to see him holding her friend by the neck, "P-please… don't…," she choked out as she slowly blinked.

"Dare I…?" Spike grinned, bringing his fangs closer to the man's neck. She had fought hard for them, allowing herself to get beaten and hurt to save their lives; she cried as she looked to the pastor. As she was about to lose consciousness, she knew there was a large chance her sire would show no mercy.

Looking into the man's eyes, she whispered, "I am so… sorry…." Just as Spike's teeth about grazed the man's skin, Elizabeth faltered, and her eyes fell shut.

"Aw, you're missing the good part, pet. At least bear witness to this," Spike said, pulling up from the man's neck. The priest sighed in relief as he muttered a blessing. "Still, I ain't finished with you," Spike said to him, exposing his neck even more as he bent low again for the bite. Stopping in his actions, a sudden flash of acid seemed to burn him from behind. Spike howled as his hands flew to the back of his head as smoke simmered from it. Gasping, he turned around to face the wrath of the canon, this time armed with holy water. "Well, bugger," he hissed. The priest now joined his brethren, taking arms as they splashed holy water at the retreating demon. Holding up their crosses, they advanced slowly, reading passages from the bible as though performing an exorcism, "Ain't that kind of demon,  _pères_ ," Spike said as he jumped aside to avoid a splash of holy water, causing him to growl. Backing up to where Elizabeth lay, he almost tripped over her unconscious body. "Bloody hell," he said grumpily, bending low to toss her limp form over his shoulder. The men gasped as Spike dared to take the innocent girl hostage, only causing them to quicken their pace and endeavours.

"Stop! Please! She's just a girl!" the priest that had shared a previous conversation with her cried out in accented English.

"Not what you think,  _père_ ," Spike smiled, moving away from them. Angered, the priest stepped forward and dashed water into Spike's face, and getting some onto Elizabeth's exposed wrist. Spike howled, covering himself with his free hand as smoke billowed from his face, as it did where the water hit Elizabeth's wrist. The priest's eyes widened, stopping in his tracks to realise that she did not appear to be what she was. "Told you so," Spike winced as he removed his hand, his face now blemished with pink. He gave a little smile and laugh before stealing off into the night with his progeny in his arms.

┼†‡

They returned to the safety of their hotel room before sunrise. Spike dumped Elizabeth onto the bed, soon to join her as he slumped down face first next to her. Tired, bruised, and battered, he quickly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _mes pères -_ my fathers


	10. Day 10: Ode to Laudanum

Lying next to her sire in a dreamless sleep, Elizabeth was not aware of the small burn on her wrist or of the many bruises covering her body. She felt bad about fighting him, but had no idea she would fight so fiercely, that she had that in her. When she woke that evening, she groaned in pain. Getting up, she slipped out into the bathroom for a hot bath to sooth her aching back.

Spike awoke sprawled face down in bed, still dressed in his coat and boots. He lifted his head to see that he was alone, hearing the trickle of water in the bathroom where Elizabeth had escaped to. Rolling over onto his back, he sighed as he sat up to see the state he was in. The upper sleeve of his coat had two distinct punctures in it where a dark crust of dried blood was now caked over. Spike pried off his coat to see a similar blood stain beneath it on the sleeve of his shirt.

"Bloody girl," he breathed as he examined his shoulder with furrowed brows. He swung his legs over the bed as he removed his vest and had his suspenders lowered, then unbuttoned the top of his collar as he proceeded to pull the shirt off over his head. His movements caused some discomfort to his back, now covered in splotchy bruises, having sustained being thrown against several hard surfaces by the wiry vampire. There was some dark bruising on his midsection as well where Elizabeth had taken advantage of the first blow he had so kindly offered to her. He honestly didn't think she had it in her to do that considering her meek persona, but it came as a pleasant surprise; Elizabeth was now proving to be more adequate in taking care of herself. The bite that she had also inflicted on his shoulder didn't appear as terrible as the dried blood might have indicated, only leaving a couple of small scabs and bruises.

Spike sighed as he hunched over on the edge of the bed, wincing slightly as he rested his cheek into his palm; the skin across his face was still a bit pink and blotchy from the holy water. He spread his arms out by his side and leaned back against his hands as he began to drum his fingers against the cool sheets. Fixing his gaze on the bathroom door, he waited for his stubborn progeny to come out so that he could have his turn.

Resting in the water, Elizabeth gently washed herself, then got out of the tub to dry off. She pulled on her nightgown; her body was much too sore to wear a conventional dress that night. Still feeling guilty for her past actions, she refilled the tub and came out of the bathroom as she brushed her hair. She looked to her sire with a silent apology as she braced herself for an onslaught of scolding.

"Elizabeth," Spike said with a discourteous tone to his voice. It was difficult to gauge what sort of mood he was in with his blue eyes piercing and unblinking as they followed her; he wasn't smiling or scowling, but there was that familiar glint to his eyes. Elizabeth averted her gaze at the sound of his voice, moving to the telephone to call room service for a pot of hot water for tea as Spike stood to enter the bathroom.

She moved over to the sofa and sat down as she nervously ran a hand through her loose hair, letting the events of the previous night play in her head, even surprising herself by the things that she had done. It was confusing for the girl to have been so angry that she had bitten and attacked her sire; he had thrown her across the room and she did not care. During that time, the only things she could think of was that she needed to protect the priests and that she was angry. She was like a lioness protecting her cubs, a thought that gave her a tiny bit of pride, but made her fearful that she was beginning to embrace the demon inside of her.

┼†‡

Closing the door behind him, Spike noticed that Elizabeth had filled the tub for him. He supposed it was her form of an apologetic gesture since she had fought against him for something she shouldn't have. He raised his brows and gave a sigh, unsure of what to do with that part of her. Removing the rest of his clothes, he stepped into the welcoming, warm water, eventually lowering himself underneath the still current as he lay there like it was a watery grave. It was very relaxing, helping to ease his soreness and aches, to the point where he felt he could nap there submerged under the water. But as he still had some loose ends to tie, he sat up. He scrubbed his skin where he could tolerate it, then gingerly worked on his hair and scalp where it had been scathed by the holy water. He returned to the room, dressed only in his underpants and a towel around his neck.

He tossed his dust and dirt ingrained trousers into the corner of the room where he had discarded his bloodied shirt, starting a small heap of items that he would not care to wear again; it was good to travel light and easier to pick things up along the way. Picking a clean pair of similar trousers and a shirt from the wardrobe, he pulled them on. Spike slumped down onto the sofa as he towel dried his hair, leaving his shirt untucked and suspenders hanging loose by his waist.

Elizabeth had tea set out and was sipping from her own cup, bracing herself for something horrible, but tried to remain calm. She was a sweet girl, but it was now apparent she was wrestling with her inner demon.

Spike leaned forward towards the table as he poured himself a cup of tea, "Is there milk?" he asked. Elizabeth nodded and motioned to the little creamer as she sipped her tea quietly. Spike poured some of it into his cup. He finished off his steaming beverage with a couple of teaspoons of sugar as he stirred to dissolve it before lifting his cup to take a sip. Picking up a croissant from the tray off the continental breakfast items, he ripped a small piece off and smeared a bit of apricot jam on it, "Retreated back to being that quiet little mouse, have you?" Spike said, taking a bite; he looked up across at her and raised a brow.

Looking at him from the corner of her eye, Elizabeth let out a little breath of relief that he was not screaming at her. She looked down as she answered, "I don't know what overcame me. I could not think…. After a while, I stopped thinking altogether," she said as she set her tea down.

"Oh, come on," Spike scoffed over his teacup, "how many times need I remind you? You're a vampire; you're supposed to be evil. So stop fighting what's so inherent and just give in," he said bluntly.

Elizabeth looked at him and gave a small, coy smile, "You know, in my life, there was always someone telling me how to act and what I should be. The aristocracy told me I should be a pale example of beauty and manners, and now you. Things like that never stopped me from being myself," she whispered. She sipped her tea again. A violent monster, no, but the little mouse was indeed learning some wit.

Spike raised a brow at her response, "Your former life has little to do with you now; I'm not so much telling you what to do as you should be _listening_ to that inner calling, to the demon within. Ain't God speaking to you now, love, He stopped listening as soon as you stole that sweet nectar from my veins." He ended on that note by taking a sip of his tea.

Elizabeth looked down and thought about what he said. She did not steal anything. She was trying to save herself, make him go away. How could God ignore His child for something so small? she asked herself as she looked at him with questioning eyes. "'Stole'? I dared to fight back. Or was I supposed to let you kill me?" She had the looks of a sweet girl, but whether she was becoming acquainted with her demon or tired of his torment was yet to be decided.

"Yes," he sighed as though she had finally understood, "you were. Frankly, coming back uninvited was rather rude on your part," he added, taking another sip.

That was the breaking point for the kind girl as she stood to her feet, "' _Rude_ '? I was heading home from confession, minding my own business, when a man from the shadows tried to _murder_ me and I fought back! Contrary to popular belief, all women are not little flowers that beg and cry until we let men have their way. Don't tell me for a _second_ that I was just supposed to give up my life and let you have it!"

Spike blinked several times, raising his brows as he looked up at her and replied plainly, "Being a little overly dramatic, are we?" He sighed, "I was just going out for a bite, had you picked on the spot, and had a go at it. And you," he frowned at her, "you _were_ supposed to die. You were just a tuck on legs."

"No, I'm not being dramatic! I am speaking as a person, not an animal. Humans feel fear. They have instincts, too, to survive, to flee and to fight. I _fought_ ," she said as she looked into his eyes. She liked his company, but never saw eye to eye with him. There was a time when she would just cry at his cruel words, but not anymore. She had more to say, a will and mind of her own, and as much as she hated to admit it, she had him to thank for it.

"Hate to break it to you, pet, but you're not a person anymore," he stared back into her eyes, a blasé expression compared to the one of burning intent that she held. He set his teacup down and rubbed at his temples, feigning pain, "Please, all this braying is giving me a headache," he grimaced with his eyes closed. Spike stood from his spot and whipped the towel off his shoulders and let it fall on the spot where he sat. Snapping his suspenders over his shoulders, he walked over to his coat and picked it up, then began to don his boots.

Elizabeth sighed softly as she sat back down and looked out the window, clutching her shawl around her shoulders. After that, she did not speak or cry. She remained seated as she calmly sipped her tea. It was not until he left that she let out a heaving breath and cried. She knew that he was right, but she refused to become like him. She had fought all this time to be herself, and now she was expected to give it all up? Shaking with sobs, she sat there with his words echoing in her ears.

┼†‡

Leaving his progeny on a sour note did not slow Spike down with his endeavours. He was aware of her sensitive circumstances, but he did not care; she had to learn what it was like to be what she was- a creature of the night, something dark, evil, vile, _sinister_. She could cling to that little light she remembered as the sweet, sheltered girl from her pampered upbringing, but that was just a distant dream now.

He promptly returned to the hospice, this time entering the doors as he was bombarded with the sights, sounds, and smells of disease and death. He grimaced as he glanced around at the tightly packed cots and the bodies lying in them. Walking forward, he found himself in one of the back rooms as he looked for the doctor. The nurses and nuns appeared too busy to notice him, or perhaps they didn't care. Spike pushed open a solitary door as it slowly creaked open to reveal a man seated at a desk. He glanced up at Spike in surprise with bloodshot and glazed over eyes. There was a slight sheen of perspiration on his brow and he appeared pale, so pale that a bluish tint had appeared on his lips.

"Are you the doctor?" Spike asked, stepping through.

"I am. Who are you?" the man looked a little nervous as he appeared to be wheezing a bit for air.

Spike closed the door behind him and took a couple steps towards him, "Do you know anything about the recent and gruesome murders in this area?"

The doctor looked up at him before lowering his gaze as he wiped a shaky hand through his dark hair, "No, I'm sorry, I do not." Spike carefully watched his nervous display. The doctor stood as he began to walk towards the door, "Now, if you do not mind, I have to attend to the patients."

Spike stepped in his path to stop him as he stared him dead in the eyes, "You're hiding something."

"N-no… I am not," the doctor stuttered, indicating that he was probably telling a lie. His eyes had widened, and he began to swallow out of nervousness and fear as he scratched involuntarily at his wrist.

Spike glared as he took a step towards him and grasped at the man's clammy neck, "I'm _really_ tired of having to wring the truth out of the lot of you!" he growled, forcing the man's face in closer. "So you bloody better tell me whether you know anything, or I'll collapse your windpipe, you hear?"

"I-I'd only come across some of the limbs from the back alley. The other parts of the body were found strewn a-along different areas of the street. I swear, that is all I know! I was only coming in to work!" the doctor gasped for breath, speaking rapidly as he trembled.

Spike could tell that he was telling the the truth, but instead of releasing his hold, he angrily growled and transformed to his demon guise. The man stood transfixed in a state of terror and shock, unable to move with Spike's grip along with the inability to function his legs. Spike lunged forward and sank his teeth into the man's neck out of frustration and anger, feeling at a loss that he had once again been led to a dead end. Once he had his fill, he returned to his regular facade as he pulled back. Letting the body roll away from his grasp, he was suddenly met with the sound of a crashing tray and a woman screaming from behind. He turned around to face her as she held her hands to her face, shrieking as she edged away from him. Spike tried to dash forward towards her, but somehow couldn't get himself to react quick enough. It was like he was unable to command his body to move the way he wanted to. His thoughts were muddled; it was like he was moving through sludge. As the nurse made her getaway, Spike soon realised the folly of his actions. It now all made sense- the sweating, the fidgeting, the bloodshot eyes- the doctor was an addict to his own medications, and if Spike hadn't intervened by killing him first, the man would have succumbed to his own death with a lethal overdose. What he was experiencing was the strange effects of the drugs in the doctor's bloodstream.

"Oh… bollocks," Spike said, glancing down at the body. Finally getting himself to move, he managed to stumble out of the room, pushing past nurses and nuns that were in his path as the sight of the door appeared in the near distance. But just as he felt some relief, he was suddenly grabbed from behind by strong arms as he was picked up from both sides. The police had been patrolling the area since the murders, and the nurse had conveniently alerted them.

"Unhand me, you scoundrels!" Spike growled, putting up an effort to even struggle. Whatever the doctor had taken, had been an exceptionally large quantity to make the vampire feel incapacitated.

As the police managed to manhandle him out, they passed by the bed of the boy from before, the one who had witnessed Spike's vampire form. He lay back in bed as his eyes followed the thrashing man.

" _Angelus et Drusilla…,_ " he whispered. Spike instantly perked her head up, turning his head around as his eyes frantically searched for the one who could have uttered his sires' names. Then their eyes met.

"You know, you've seen Angelus and Drusilla? Tell me!" Spike cried, managing to slip out of the policemen's grasp as he lunged towards the boy's cot. The boy breathed rapidly as he watched the man come closer, his head laying on the side of his pillow. Just as Spike had reached his bedside, the policemen had gotten ahold of him once more. They clubbed him on the back of the head before he could hear the boy say anything more as he slipped into unconsciousness.

┼†‡

Spike awoke on his side some hour later on a cold floor of dirt and straw. Shifting his hand upward, he was welcomed with the sound of metal links clinking against one another before he felt the tug and weight of metal on his wrists. He raised both of his hands up, seeing that they were shackled together. Still feeling the effects of the drugs, Spike slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position, and learned that he was not alone in this dire situation. Around him were other men, men who looked befitting for that dingy dungeon, men who smelled and had dirt and grime covering their skin and clothes. They leered at him as they noticed he had awakened, some taking to pointing and chuckling. Spike sighed with annoyance as he glanced to them warily. There was far too much on his mind, let alone waiting for the effects of the drugs to wear off, being trapped in a French prison, and now having to deal with the likes of them.

Unaware that one of the inmates had crept up from behind him, he was suddenly accosted as the man attempted to rob him of his coat. Spike growled as he fought him off, still a little groggy, but with his strength and focus returning. The man was a few inches taller than him and had a considerable amount of more weight and muscle on his frame, but that didn't intimidate the vampire. Dodging a few of the man's attempted blows, Spike managed to use the man's misguided equilibrium as he swung at the air, throwing his shackles around the man's neck, and yanking back from behind as he crossed the metal links tight and squeezed. The inmates, once jeering and laughing, had now quieted down as they watched the smaller male killing the other.

The man's eyes bulged as he dropped to his knees, gagging and choking as his fingers tried to grasp at the chains. The other inmates began to holler out for the guards, panic-stricken and afraid for their lives. The guards did little in response, only yelling at them to stop all their noise. But it wasn't long till Spike released the chains and sank his teeth into the man's neck. The inmates who had been watching began to scream in terror, causing the others to turn to also witness the likes of a real demon in their midst.

" _Démon_ _! Il est un_ _démon_ _!_ "

" _Au secours!_ _Relâchez-nous_ _!_ " They scrambled back to the farthest wall, trying to distance themselves as far away as they could in that small and confined space.

Spike let the body drop forward as he breathed, as some of the blood dripped past his chin. He looked up to the other inmates and grinned as he wiped at his mouth, then licked at the remaining blood. Their cries were unrelenting, screams of help and mercy as real fear was present in their panicked voices. One of the guards finally decided to come forward.

" _Fermez ta putain de gueule!_ " the guard warned, smacking at the bars with his baton. He peered at the strange scene of the trembling convicts huddled on one side of the cell whereas the most recent prisoner sat alone on the other end.

Spike sat with his knees propped up and his arms braced around them. Turning his head to look at the guard, he began to laugh.

" _Qu'est-ce qui te fait rire toi?_ " the policeman banged on the bars again, this time directly his gaze at Spike.

" _You_ , you slimy frog!" Spike taunted him, only to continue with his cackling. He beckoned at the guard, "C'mon, mate, if you want a job done, you gotta get close and dirty," he smirked. The guard clearly did not like how the inmate continued to taunt him, in a language he couldn't understand, no less. He yelled for his partner, waiting for him to approach, then exchanged some words as the two looked to Spike. They seemingly decided to unlock the gates, banging at the bars to warn the other prisoners not to move. Spike's grin grew wider as the first guard approached him, walking up just in front of him before Spike sprang up and attacked. Though, he didn't have long to wait before he was rebuffed to the side of the head with a baton. He stumbled back, stunned as the other guard swiftly came to his partner's aide. The pair gave him a few more beats to ensure that he was subdued before they dragged him back by the arms and upwards, where they secured him to another chain that was suspended from a latch on the wall.

Spike moaned as he came to, rolling over on the floor as he saw the guards peering over the body he had just previously fed off and killed. He grimaced as he sat up, smiling wryly at them through his pain, "A gift, mates." The French guards spoke quietly and rapidly at this new found discovery, then turned to the English inmate, looking to him in shock, then disgust.

" _Tu peux_ _pourrir en enfer_ _, bête misérable!_ " one said before grabbing the body by the legs. His partner glared at Spike and shook his head as he took the dead man's arms, and the both of them slowly hefted it out of the cell.

Spike laughed as he scrambled forward, only be to held taut in his place with the chain link. He yanked on it as he stared back at the affixed latch that held him in place. Growling in frustration, he turned back to watch the guards amble out down the dark corridor.

"Filthy frogs! Get me out of these bloody chains!"

" _Ta guele!"_ the other guard yelled back in warning.

Spike continued to growl as they vanished from his sight, "You bloody wankers! Pray you'll die in your sleep tonight, 'cause I swear, the next time you see me, I'll do worse to you than you'll ever fanthom. You'll be wishing you were never born! You hear me!" The other inmates continued to huddle in their corner as they stared at Spike scream out obscenities. Finally submitting to his situation, Spike slumped down on the cold floor, glaring vehemently at the area before him. He has nothing else to do but hope that Elizabeth would come for him.

┼†‡

As time passed with the two spending it independently from each other, Spike remained absent for the hours to come.

Elizabeth did not want to leave the hotel, so she ended up passing the time by tidying up their room and making the bed. She sighed as she opened the window and listened to the street music. Something that normally would have made her dance and smile just made her sad again. Not even the thought of eating made her happy as she fixed herself some tea. She felt depressed, alone, and even more confused than when she had begun this… journey. The main reason for her clinging to her former life and ways was because she thought that if she let go, she would not only lose any hope of seeing her family again, but that she would also lose her mind.

As the hour grew later and morning approached, Elizabeth lay in bed as she watched the shadows on the floor cast by the moonlight from the window; her eyes held a fragile look to them. It had dawned on Elizabeth that either something had happened to her sire, or he had abandoned her completely. Not that she could blame him, considering how she had been. Perhaps it was best she were alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _Angelus et Drusilla… -_ Angelus and Drusilla… (lol, as it if wasn't already obvious) __  
> Démon! Il est un démon! - Demon! It's a demon!  
>  _Au secours! Relâchez-nous! -_ Help! Release us!  
>  _Fermez ta putain de gueule! -_ Shut the fuck up! or Shut your fucking traps! (the word for mouth is an animal's mouth/muzzle, so it's pretty rude)  
>  _Qu'est-ce qui te fait rire toi? -_ Hey you, what are you laughing at?  
>  _Tu peux pourrir en enfer, bête misérable! -_ May you rot in hell, you wretched beast!  
>  _Ta gueule! -_ Shut up!/ Shut your trap!/ Shut your face! (I personally like the last translation, lol)
> 
> Happy Holidays everyone!


	11. Day 11: Alone

Elizabeth woke up that evening to find that her sire had not yet returned. Seeing that his belongings were still there did not allow her much room for comfort. She had noticed the way he was always getting rid of his soiled clothes and picking up new items along the way, so it would not be unusual for him to just up and leave with his things still there. However, when she looked into the dresser drawer, she found the brooch he was always fiddling with. That was definitely something he wouldn't leave behind. And considering he'd need shelter from daylight with their 'special' circumstances, to have him not return… what did that mean? Her thoughts strayed, thinking that perhaps he hadn't left her at all, that maybe he might have gotten into some sort of trouble, or perhaps was hurt somewhere and couldn't find a way to make it back to their room.

Getting dressed, she left the hotel in search for him. With the winding streets of Paris before her, she wondered where to look first. The taverns, she thought, as she began to walk. She entered the first one in her view and approached the man behind the bar, asking about a man who fit her sire's description.

"No, my dear, cannot say that I have seen him. Sorry," he said. Disappointed, she turned and left. As she walked, she saw some familiar women on the streets. She sighed to herself as she approached them.

"Excuse me, have any of you seen an Englishman last night? Handsome, well dressed, and speaks little French?" she asked in better French than her sire's.

Initially, the women did not respond to her as she approached, seeing that she was female, but when they recognised her innocent face, they reacted viciously. "You! You devil girl with that monster of a man!" the prostitute spat. "He took away two of my girls and killed them! _Killed_ them!" she drew closer to Elizabeth. The surrounding girls wore the same angry expression and glared; they touted little quips of agreements and words of encouragement to their leader. "Never come here again! Or I will call the police, you devilish girl!"

Elizabeth shrank back and quickly walked away as she mentally crossed the tavern and women off in her mind. She went to two other bars before finding one at the end of the road with a broken window and the door hanging on its hinges. Walking in, she ignored the men as their heads turned to follow her.

She tapped the barkeep on the shoulder, "Excuse me sir, would you know if an Englishman came here last night? Thin, rather tall?" she asked with a hopeful look on her face.

"No, I'm sorry, miss, I haven't," he replied.

A man sidled up from behind her, daring to place his hand on her lower back, "What would you want to do with a boring Englishman when you can find out what it's like to be loved by a Frenchman?" he spoke in her ear from behind as he took a sniff of her hair.

Elizabeth tensed as she spun around to face him, her eyes flashing with anger, "I suggest you leave me be," she said, pushing him away. The man was vaulted across the floor as he came crashing into a couple of chairs that helped to aid him in his stop.

"You… you crazy _bitch!_ " he screamed angrily, floundering to get himself up. "It's no wonder the man left you! You're a loon! Must have been a bad lay, too! Frigid, as most English women are!" he spat.

"Eh, now, get out of here," the barkeeper yelled, coming out from behind the counter, "you've had too much to drink already. If you're going to make it unpleasant for anyone else, leave!" He grabbed hold of his arm, but the belligerent man slipped out of his grasp and shoved him back into a table.

"Get off me!" he yelled. "You'd rather kick out a paying customer than a girl who should know her place at home? No wonder this shithole of a place is falling apart!" he spat on the floor and glared at him before turning it to Elizabeth, then sauntered out.

Elizabeth looked at the barkeep with a tender smile, "Thank you, sir. I'll pay for any unpaid drinks that pig left," she said as she put down a few coins.

She left as she caught sight of the man outside and pulled him into an alley. Spinning him around, she smiled at him, "Perhaps _you_ should have stayed home," she said as her face turned into that of a demon and swiftly killed him. Cleaning herself from any blood she may have spilt, she made sure that the scene looked like he had gotten into a bad fight before continuing on her search.

She soon came upon two policemen talking. "Excuse me, I am looking for… my husband," the girl lied. "He is tall, English, and speaks broken French. He did not come back to our hotel last night."

"Your husband?" they turned to her as she spoke as one of them repeated her inquiry.

"Hmm, we have seen several tourists that have crossed our paths recently," the other said. "We would need a more detailed description of him, though," he added.

"How long has he been missing, Madam?" the first policeman asked.

"He has been gone since last night. He has curly hair; his fringe is just to his blue eyes. William Pratt?" she said, wondering if he used that name anywhere else.

"Since last night?" the first policeman repeated, raising his eyebrows, "that's not that long. Does he make a habit of leaving often?" Elizabeth shook her head at this. "It's not an uncommon thing when you're in an unfamiliar city, especially in Paris; we've got quite a nightlife," he commented unnecessarily.

"Oh, come now, that's presumptuous of you to say," the second man spoke, frowning at him. "I apologise, Madam, on his behalf, for his insensitive words. We can take this information down and look it up at the station," he said to her.

"I am telling you, he probably ended up getting drunk somewhere and passed out and is just wandering around lost in the city. Our time and resources shouldn't be wasted on the likes of getting a lost, rich dog home," the first man said to the other, being a rather undutiful man of law.

Elizabeth frowned at him. The second officer was very kind and helpful, but his partner was not. Ignoring the first officer, she turned to his partner, "I would like that very much. He should have returned by now. I am very worried," she said as she played it up, hoping to get answers.

"Please, there is no need for concern, Madam, I shall personally look into it," the second officer assured her. "If you could tell me which hotel you're staying at, we can contact you as soon as we receive any news."

Elizabeth sighed with a smile and told him where they were staying. "The room number is 128," she told him as she gave him a sweet smile of gratitude. Though she had a lot on her mind, she felt a little relief in having the police help locate her sire, keeping her at ease enough to relax and enjoy a crepe at a bistro. She was in Paris after all, she might as well savour it, with or without him. Returning to her room with some snacks, she crocheted with some yarn she had bought to entertain herself with while she waited for the policemen's word.

┼†‡

Going back to the station, the dutiful policeman of the pair kept true to his word.

"Has there been any word received about a missing Englishman?" he asked the other men there. "Curly hair to here," he gestured, "blue eyes. Aristocrat."

"Not so much missing," one of the other officers laughed. "There's been someone who's been recently imprisoned whose English. From the sounds of it, he matches your description," he smacked his colleague on the shoulder before walking away.

The officer watched him in surprise, "Why was he arrested?" he called out.

"Murder." The officer looked even more shocked at this news. Quickly heading to the front desk, he checked with the clerk for the information- the paperwork was apparently true. After confirming this, he headed down to the underground cells. However, once there, he came upon the strange sight of a man who indeed matched the description, but did not look threatening at all. The other men sharing his cell had also separated themselves from where he was shackled, the look of fear apparent on their faces.

"Eh, are you William Pratt?" he asked in French as he gave the bars a couple of smacks with his baton. Spike immediately snapped his head up at the sound of his name.

"Oui! Yes, I am! I'm William Pratt!" he said hopefully, standing up with eagerness.

The policeman looked to him momentarily before turning to his colleague as they began to discuss things rapidly in French, leaving Spike confused and in the dark. They looked at him once more as they shook their heads in disgust, then left without so much as another word.

"Oy! Where the bloody hell do you think you're going?" Spike called after them, moving forward only to have the chains keeping him taut in place before he could reach the bars. "Do you hear me? I'm talkin' to you!" he yelled. He growled in exasperation as he heard the door upstairs clank shut.

┼†‡

The policeman had given his word that he would return to Elizabeth with any news he would receive of her missing husband, but that night he did not come.

Elizabeth went to bed that morning, hoping that all was well. Those past few nights had been very hectic between the two, as the thought that he had left her crossed her mind once more.


	12. Day 12: Caged Skylark

It wasn't until the next morning that the police officer took action. With his partner behind him, he rapped on her door and waited for Elizabeth to answer it.

"Madam Pratt, it is the policeman you spoke to last night," he called through the door, "it concerns your husband."

Elizabeth was awakened by the sound of their knock. Getting up, she put on a robe to answer the door. "Yes?" she said sleepily, though she brightened a little at the sight of him.

"Good morning, Madam," the officer greeted her formally by removing his hat, "I apologise for waking you at this hour. I'd imagine you've had difficulty sleeping. May we come in?"

"Y-yes. Just allow me a moment to get dressed. Excuse me," she said. Shutting the door, she quickly changed into a dress before letting them in. "Would you like some tea?" she offered. The two walked through as they glanced around at the impressive state of the room.

"The rich are lucky," the less inhibited one whispered, only loud enough for his partner to catch. The other officer shot him a warning glance before turning his attention back to the young wife.

"Ah, that is not necessary, we won't be long," he replied.

"I would like some tea," his partner piped up. "Or do you perhaps have coffee? That would be better," he smiled, stepping forward to take a seat on the sofa. His partner gave a little sigh at his friend's display. Elizabeth shook her head and gave the kinder officer a pardoning smile as she poured the man some tea.

"We don't, I'm afraid," she replied. The man continued to help himself to some of the sweets that were on the table, despite the disapproving stares from his partner.

"Please, have a seat, Madam, I'm afraid this is a matter where you need to be seated."

Her kind gaze turned into worry as she sat down, "Is everything… all right?"

The officer sat down next to his partner after she was seated, "With the information you had given us, I had hopes we would turn up promising leads, considering it is much easier to narrow down foreigners. But," he hesitated as he carefully tried to pick the correct words to say to her in that delicate situation, "I did not expect to find it so soon, and… with this outcome." He paused; the sound of his partner sipping tea and biting into a pastry overlapped that tense moment. "In fact, we know where your husband is," he began.

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, and? Where is he?" she asked with more urgency in her voice as she glanced in annoyance at the other officer out of the corner of her eye.

"He's… been imprisoned," he replied, trying to remain as professional as he could whilst remaining sensitive to her emotional state.

Elizabeth looked at them with a little surprise, "Oh dear…. May I bail him out tonight? I am sure I have enough to pay it," she said with concern and tiredness in her voice, feigning exhaustion from worry.

The police officer looked down as he collected his thoughts before glancing up, "I'm afraid it is not that simple. He's been arrested for the account of murdering a doctor, and another attempted murder of a child," he explained, looking her in the eyes with sympathy.

"He's a depraved murderer, is what he is," the other policeman said pointedly with his mouth stuffed.

"Please, let me handle this," his colleague said, turning to him.

"'Tis only the truth," the man replied, taking a sip of his tea.

Turning back to Elizabeth, he continued, "We do require you to come and identify him, as other people tend to claim they are certain persons when their name is called. One man claims he is William Pratt, but he had no identification on his person." Standing, the officer replaced the cap back on his head, "We are returning to the station now. If you would like to accompany us, a carriage is outside waiting," he gave a small nod at her, expecting her to comply. His colleague continued to stuff his face, but reluctantly stood to stand when his partner cleared his throat and gave him some warning glances.

Hiding her look of expectancy, Elizabeth displayed shock and grief as she covered her lips and looked down, "William… it cannot be…," she murmured. "Thank you for the offer gentlemen, but I… I think I need to lie down," she said as she stood to open the door. "Thank you for coming by," she said as she showed them out.

The compassionate officer folded his hands in front of him, nodding with understanding at her request, "Of course, Madam. Take your time. When you are ready," he handed her a note with the written address of the station, "come by and ask for Officer Prevost. He'll know what to do from there." He glanced at his colleague disapprovingly, then back at Elizabeth, "Thank you so much for your hospitality, and I pray you have some rest in this time of abhorrent news." He gave a small nod, then turned and left. The other officer tipped his hat and nodded as well, but gave her a judging look.

┼†‡

That night, Elizabeth paced the hotel room as she wondered what was she going to do. They obviously could not stay in Paris after that, so she had packed their bags, having them ready to snatch at a moment's notice. She did not know why she was doing this, but somehow, she cared about her sire in the same odd way she believed that he cared about her.

She dressed nicely for this dire occasion, and even pulled her hair back away from her face. Finally, taking a deep breath, she left the hotel as she made her way to the station. She walked to the front desk to see a man sitting behind it. The clerk appeared to be busy reading something; he was distracted and not very attentive.

"E-excuse me, may I speak to Officer Prevost, please? I am… Elizabeth Pratt."

He glanced up at her as she spoke, "Eh?" He dropped his writing instrument and turned his head to his side and yelled, "Officer Prevost, someone to see you," he glanced back at her, "some… pretty girl."

"Who is it?" a voice yelled back.

"Says her name's Elizabeth Pratt."

There was a pause, then the sound of someone getting up from a creaky chair and footsteps to follow. A man of medium build and height emerged from a small office within. His hair was brown, thinning, and greying at the temples; he had a thick and full mustache that also had silver running throughout it. He was dressed smartly, the attire of an officer, but his clothes too neat to be one who dealt with the law outside. He approached the counter and looked at Elizabeth.

"Madam, I believe you're here to see your husband, William Pratt?" It was more of a statement than a question. The desk clerk glanced at the two as they exchanged words, his expression changing as he understood the severity of the situation. Officer Prevost glanced to the clerk, "That'll be all, I'll handle it from here," he said assertively.

"Yes, of course," the clerk cleared his throat. Ducking his head, he shuffled off to find work elsewhere.

"Now," Officer Prevost said, turning back to his guest, "I'll show you to him. But first," he looked her dead in the eye as his expression turned extremely serious, "you must follow exactly as I say, or your life, or other lives, may be threatened. Do you understand?" He searched her eyes for a brief moment before continuing, not losing his momentum, "You must follow directly behind me. Keep your arms and hands by your sides at all times- I cannot emphasize this enough. You must not utter a word unless I say it is all right; when I ask him to approach, you cannot share any words with him, or try to touch him. Do you understand?" he asked again as his stare bore into her eyes.

Elizabeth nodded as she listened to the officer's instructions, "Of course, sir, I understand completely."

"Now," he lifted a ring of keys off a hook on the wall and turned to a hallway, "shall we?"

He carried a lantern with him as he led them down a long corridor, then down some stairs to a dark and dank basement where some foul odours became much more prominent. Covering her nose, Elizabeth let out a cough at the smell and sight of the place. She had never been in a jail before, but she thought this was surely worse than the Bloody Tower itself. They reached a barred off area where a man stood guard on the other side. Officer Prevost banged on the gate with his keys to alert him.

The man perked up and turned around, "Officer Prevost," he said.

"I'm taking her in to see him," Prevost explained.

The man glanced at Elizabeth, his expression hard, "'Tis a pity, Madam," he opened the gate for them to pass. Past the gates were cells lined on both of their sides, with as many inmates stuffed into each one they could fit. They gestured at the pair as they walked past, reaching their arms out to grab at them, screaming and yelling to catch their attention, and catcalling lewd comments at the girl in question. Elizabeth flinched a bit in fear and stayed very close to the officer in front of her.

"Ignore their cries," Prevost said, keeping in the centre between the cells, "just stay behind me; they cannot reach you," he reassured her. As they neared the end of the cells, there was another gate that was barred off where no guard stood. "We had to isolate him," Prevost explained, taking his key and opening the gate, "he was causing trouble for the other inmates. He killed another man," he looked to her, his stare icy. "They're terrified of him," he said. Past this last barrier, the area there was dark, and the sounds of the other prisoners were more distant. Prevost lifted the lantern as he cautiously crept forward, then stopped. He drew a line in the dirt and straw laden ground, "Do not cross this line, Madam," he cautioned. "William Pratt," he called out, "come out." There was silence. Prevost squinted in the darkness, lifting the light around to see if he could catch a glimpse of the prisoner. "William Pra-" he called out louder, only be to preemptively stopped by a disgruntled man suddenly lashing out in front of him and growling like an animal.

Spike stopped just a couple feet short in front of the officer; he was unable to reach him because of the shackles that chained him to an ironic spike buried deep within the ground. "Get these bloody damn things off of me, you disgusting frog!" Spike spat. Standing behind the safety of the line and much larger man in front of her, Elizabeth jumped a little in horror as the sight of her 'husband' emerged from the shadows like a wild beast. Standing there, she covered her mouth in feigned shock and heartbreak. He was dirty from the ground he slept on; bits of straw stuck to his clothes and matted hair. His clothes had been through a bit of wear and tear, streaked with dirt, and perhaps some dried blood, but he appeared sound and in one piece.

Officer Prevost stood firmly, but the flinch on his face betrayed his act of courage, "Be silent, _rosbif!"_ Prevost yelled back, calling him a derogatory slur just as Spike had. "Madam, is he indeed your husband, William Pratt?" he asked over his shoulder at her. Spike growled and panted as he tugged at the chains, then reached out towards the officer's neck as though he wanted to strangle him.

"Yes… that is him. I cannot… this…," she choked.

Officer Prevost turned to face her as he sighed, "I'm sorry you had to witness this. No lady should ever have to visit a place such as this," he said solemnly.

"The… blood…y… _HELL!_ " Spike hollered, yanking on his chain. "Turn around and bloody face me when I talk to you, you poncer!" he growled, not able to see the small figure of his progeny over the man's much larger frame.

"Hush!" the man called over his shoulder at Spike.

"'Hush'? No one hushes me!" he growled back in retaliation.

"Madam, I'm afraid with you being able to identify him, there is nothing more we can do. He has killed, several times, and he is due to be executed in a couple of days. Despite him being a citizen of the United Kingdom, he has killed in our country, and his acts will not be tolerated."

All the while the man spoke, Spike continued yelling hysterically at his back, "EH! OY! Who the bloody hell are you speaking to, huh? I will have you begging for mercy when I get my hands on you. Eh!"

"You may have some last words with him before his day of execution, but for now, I will have to ask you to leave," he said, his eyes intently focused on hers in that dim light.

Elizabeth looked down and even trembled in pure concern. She thought her sire was smart enough to not get caught, but worse, she was afraid she driven him to be this reckless. Cupping a hand over her mouth, she shook her head with a hushed 'no'. She looked up at the officer with pleading eyes.

"Please, Officer Prevost, I know he has done monstrous things, but this is not the man I had married. Please, let me say goodbye to him before then. Please," she pleaded softly.

The French officer looked down at the girl, standing firm with his constitution, but with her pitiful look, and being all alone and so young in a foreign country, he took sympathy. "If only you remain behind this line," he pointed down at the mark on the ground. "You cannot touch him," he reminded her. "I will only give you one minute. I shall stand at the gate and watch you closely," he warned. He turned around to face Spike.

"Oh, so you finally decide to show me your ugly mug, eh? I was just deciding how I'd have your legs- _à la Provençale_ , or in a _beurre blanc_ sauce?" he chuckled.

"You're lucky you have a wife who loves you so much to endure the pain you've brought upon her," he spoke to him in French.

Spike squinted at him, thinking as he tried to make sense of the words, " _Femme_ … wife…? What wife?" he asked in confusion.

"You have one minute," the man said to a confused Spike.

"I don't have a bloody clue what you're goin' on about, mate," Spike said. Officer Prevost stepped aside to reveal Elizabeth had been standing behind him all that time, then stood idly by the gate, keeping vigil just a few feet away. "Bloody… _Elizabeth!_ " Spike cried, running forward to only have the chains yank him back down. "You been here this entire time and haven't said a _word_ of acknowledgement?" He scowled at her at first before the sound of slight desperation took over his voice. "Elizabeth, you've got to get me out of these bloody things!" he growled, jerking the chains to emphasize his dire constraints. "C'mon now, get the git, kill 'im, and have me out of these," he raised his wrists and rattled the chains.

Elizabeth played her part of a horrified young bride very well as she hatched a little plan, "I know you are angry, love…, I just don't know how this could have happened," she said as she shook her head. Spike raised a brow at her term of endearment, having never heard her call him 'love' before; that was something only he doled out, and solely received from Drusilla.

"The bloody hell are you rambling about?" he looked at her as though she were insane. "It isn't difficult: grab, suck, kill," he mimed with his hands, reaching out towards Prevost's direction as though to grab him, expose his neck and bite him, then give the fatal blow by snapping his neck. Prevost straightened his back having seen Spike's murderous gestures. "That's right, I'm talkin' about you," Spike grinned at him gleefully.

"I will see you again. I will see us out of this, I swear," Elizabeth continued as she went to cup his cheek, only to have her hand fall short of his face. Glancing back at the officer, she turned back to her sire with only three words to say: "Have faith, William," she whispered.

Spike looked to Elizabeth as it was clear with her words she was going to leave, "Hold on a tick, what do you mean-" he was stopped short when the officer spoke.

"I'm sorry, but it has been a minute. It is time for you to leave," he gestured for Elizabeth.

"Oy, oy, oy! What's goin' on here?" Spike yelled, looking at the two of them. The guard opened the gate as she walked out, "Elizabeth!" Spike screamed. "Where're you going? Get me out of here!" he angrily yanked on his chains as he desperately watched his progeny ignore his cries. "The bloody hell did you say to her?" he screamed at the guard. "You've twisted her mind! I will have my hands in your guts! Have them made into a violin, you hear me! Elizabeth!" he hollered after they had left, only to hear the clank of the metal gate being closed and locked. He huffed and tugged at his shackles out of frustration as he let out another growl, but this time because he had been abandoned by his progeny.

Elizabeth continued to play her role as her sire's wife to make the guards trust her as a young woman about to be a widow in a strange land. It felt strange pretending to be his wife, but she knew she could get him out of there without plowing through guards, and having everyone in Paris out to kill them both. It was best to wait until she had her time with him before his execution to make their break.

"I am terribly sorry for your predicament," Prevost sighed as he escorted the young wife back to civilization. "It is clear your husband, or whatever shell is left of him, has lost his mind," he said, shaking his head.

Elizabeth gave the officer a kind yet saddened look, "I suppose he has. He was such a kind man," she said softly. "I have a favor to ask. May I have time with him in the courtyard of Notre-Dame at sunset? It was our plan to sit there for the evening bells, and I could not bear having to leave that morning after he…-" she choked as she buried her face within her hands.

Officer Prevost stood silently as he watched the girl before him start to crumble, "I'm terribly sorry, Madam, but that request, however much I'd like to bring some peace of mind in your time of turmoil, is out of my jurisdiction," he placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping it would soothe her cries. "The most that I can do," he paused, thinking it over carefully, "is if I give you some time just before the execution. He'll be transported to a waiting room before he is brought out before the public. There, I can have someone arrange you meet him in private to exchange any last words," he explained. "You must promise that not a word of this can be uttered to another soul," he warned, "or I would be at risk of losing my own reputation and job. I trust in you, as I see the purest good in your soul," he said, giving her a curt nod.

Elizabeth nodded in thanks, "Thank you, sir. You are truly kind. Bless you."

When she returned to the hotel, she prepared one suitcase. Rearranging their items, she took out the larger more formal dresses, and replaced them with money and some of her sire's clothes; she left everything else behind. Now that she had an idea of what to expect, she prayed that her plan would work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _rosbif! -_ roast beef! (it's a derogatory and insulting term to the English, as 'frogs' is to the French)  
>  _à la Provençale_ \- prepared in the style of Provence typically with garlic and olive oil  
>  _beurre blanc_ \- literally means 'white butter'; a hot emulsified butter sauce made with a reduction of vinegar and/or white wine, grey shallots, and butter [sorry, don't mean to make you hungry, lol]  
>  _Femme -_ Wife
> 
> Happy New Year, everyone! Welcoming 2016 with more chapters to come!


	13. Day 14: Heaven-Haven: A Nun Takes a Veil

On the day of his execution, Spike's feet and hands were shackled as he was ushered out of his cell. "Get these bloody things off me!" he growled, daring to snap at the guards, only to have a couple inches of movement afforded to him. They spoke words in French that were obviously about him and possibly derogatory, while at the same time, Spike muttered very colourful words under his breath interspersed with some partial yelling. As they approached the exit, Spike flinched, seeing that it was broad daylight outside. "Wait, no," Spike struggled against their pull, "l-let's turn back. I-I've gotten used to the stench and uncomfortable hard floor. Straw bedding, rats- what's not to love? What say you strapping French _hommes_ return me to my cell, yes?"

"What a raving idiot," one of the guards commented in French as he rolled his eyes.

"Oy, I understood that!" Spike turned to glare at him. "Wait!" Spike halted again. "If we're to do this, mind saving me from some shame and hide my face?" Spike pulled at his lapels as he tried to motion to have the coat pulled over him, " _Cacher ma tête?_ " The two guards turned to look at each other and exchanged a few words, then they both pulled the back of Spike's coat high enough to have it brought over his head as they kept his figure hunched over. "Oh, mercy," Spike sighed, trying to keep the front closed as much as possible; he wasn't entirely covered, but it would have to do. The men pulled him outside with their arms encircled around each of his to guide him forward; Spike could already feel the burn of the rays on his hands. "A little faster, will you?" Spike yelped as steam began to billow from his hands. Not understanding what was going on, the guards fished him up as they rushed him into the back of the caravan and out of the sun's harm. They yelled at him as they pulled open his coat, thinking he had hidden something within it to set on fire. Once they had him exposed, they could find nothing on his person. "You did your job, now bugger off," Spike said a little weakly with an unwavering glare.

The doors were slammed shut as Spike was carried him off to the waiting station. As they neared the public square, the sound of cheering grew louder from the eager spectators.

"Bloody French," Spike growled. The coach finally came to a stop. Spike listened as a of couple men outside his doors exchanged some words before one left. The door opened shortly after that and a man gestured for Spike to get out. Spike peered at him cautiously, inching forward to see that they had parked in an area that was well shaded. He stepped out before the man pushed him forward to walk. "Watchit!" Spike growled, unable to do much but be motioned in whatever direction the man wanted. They were headed towards a large white tent fortified by some makeshift floorboards. The man lifted the entrance flap for Spike to follow through and came in after, pulling his chains to attach to a pole that was driven deep into the ground. He indicated that there was someone else in there with them. Spike turned to look, "Elizabeth," he said, completely surprised. The man left them alone at that moment to keep guard outside at the entrance. " _Elizabeth!_ " Spike's entire demeanour changed to anger. "You bloody _left_ me! Get me out of these chains!" he shook his hands at her.

Elizabeth lowered the hood to her blue cloak and pulled out a pin from her hair as she began to pick the lock.

"Seems like you're hiding a few tricks up your sleeve," Spike glanced up at her as he watched her work. "Now, where would a sheltered upper class girl learn such a thing like this?" he asked curiously. Once freed from his chains, he gave his sore wrists a rub.

"Don't worry, I have a plan," she said as she opened her suitcase. She pulled out a cloth bag and began to stuff it with a dress.

"'A plan'?" he cocked a brow as he watched her.

"When I give the word, take this and run to the nearest alley; lose them in the crowd. Once there, change and meet me in the public square. I have everything we need," she said with a little stressed but kind tone to her voice.

"Firstly, you expect me to put on a bloody dress?" he raised his eyebrows incredulously. "And secondly, why the bloody hell would I return here?" he scoffed. The unrest of the crowd could be heard, warning them that his execution was imminent. The guard gave a warning cough, letting them know he was going to have to remove Elizabeth from there soon.

Elizabeth gave a little guilty smile, "They will be looking for you, not a woman. The square is the only place we both know of where we can meet so that we may leave together," she explained with a soft and exasperated sigh. She began to nod with some sarcasm, "But, no, I suppose getting lost is a better option. Then I will follow you. Do you have another idea in which you won't be recognised or end up in ashes?" she asked as she handed him the sack and an emerald cloak. Clearly Spike did not. Most of his plans were impulsive and brash, which usually ended up with him earning more unwarranted attention and being driven out of his place of stay.

"If it weren't for the bloody sun," Spike grumbled, grabbing the items from her grasp; he glared at her like a stubborn child who was threatened with having his toy removed unless he obeyed.

The guard outside raised the flap slightly and called for Elizabeth from outside, "Madam, it is time to take your leave." Not bothering to look in, he would have discovered the soon-to-be executed prisoner freed from his shackles.

Hugging him, Elizabeth leaned close to his ear so that only he could hear her, "Let me go first. When their guard is down, push past me. I will follow close behind." Spike did nothing more at her last departing words, only a look that indicated he had heard her.

She put on a face of sadness and grief as she walked to the tent flap. "We've… said our goodbyes," she said as she lifted the hood over her head. The man raised the flap higher to allow her to pass and gave an understanding nod; he escorted her away from the premises. As Spike waited, he donned the cloak, making sure his hands were well covered and that the hood hung low to shade his visage. He parted the flap a bit to see how far Elizabeth had gone as he waited for her signal.

Elizabeth was just close enough for her sire to hear her. Stopping in her tracks, she lurched as she turned to the officer in tears, "I cannot take this…. How can this be…? I wish none of this had happened! I just wish I could have him back _right now_ ," she said with her back to the tent, adding a little emphasis on the last words.

Spike picked up on her cue and silently slipped out with the sack over his shoulder. Keeping quiet and his head lowered, he quickly paced out of the vicinity, avoiding the rambunctious crowd of townsfolk gathered before the stage.

┼†‡

When he was far away enough to find a secluded and dark alley, he paused as he brought the sack down to open it. Spike was now alone. With the entire town gathered at the square, it was the perfect diversion to buy him some time to leave. Elizabeth was still there distracting the guards, so if they had discovered him missing, they would have her in his place, allowing him even more time to flee the city. It was a much more befitting plan for him to have her take his fall, but he would not be free from their line of sight as he was now a fugitive. He fished around in the sack, finding only the yellow dress.

"Leave now, Spike, she'll understand. She's proven she can fend for herself. The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be reunited with Dru," Spike reasoned out loud, feeling it necessary to hear his own voice to convince himself. He paced a bit, fiddling with his fingers as he continued on, "Right, the girl's managed to lie through her teeth to convince the dirty pigs to see you before you got offed. Got out here in broad daylight to make sure your pretty little noggin didn't get lopped off. 'Course she'll be fine." He stopped pacing and rolled his eyes, "Oh, bollocks," he sighed. Begrudgingly, he pulled the dress out, "This colour better flatter me," he grumbled unhappily. Now dressed in nothing but the yellow dress they had taken off from the dead girl from London, and cloak Elizabeth had provided him- save for his boots- Spike had his old clothes and coat in the sack and stuffed in some hidden corner of the alley. He let out a low sigh, making sure his extremities were well hidden from view before stepping back out towards the growing restless crowd of people.

┼†‡

Looking up at the officers, Elizabeth saw them getting ready to fetch her sire. Trembling, she shook her head with her suitcase clutched in hand, "I cannot see this! I can't!" She rushed away from their sights, playing the role of a frightened and grief-stricken woman before they could enter the tent. There was little the guards could do; they had seen countless of similar reactions from other family members of executed prisoners. They shook their heads, pitying how a woman so young would already be a widow.

They proceeded towards the tent, opening the flap to reveal that no one was there. The first guard to notice stood stock-still, eyes wide in surprise and mouth agape. The second guard smacked his friend on the back when he had stopped, then pushed him aside to peer in as well.

"Damn!" he yelled angrily, seeing that the shackles lay bare on the floorboards. "He's escaped!"

"How could this have happened?" the other inquired. "He was locked tight! There was no way he could have squeezed out of those cuffs!" As they argued among themselves, the official executioner approached them from a distance.

"What seems to be the delay? We must have the next prisoner readied." The guards glanced at each other, then to him.

"We have a problem. He… appears to have escaped," one answered.

" _What?_ " the executioner was shocked. He glanced over his shoulder as he heard the cries of the crowd growing more restless. Turning back around, he began to instruct the guards: "You must alert the police at once! Have all men, ALL on the search for this man; he is a convicted felon and is to be brought in and killed! This must be brought to justice!" The men nodded and quickly retreated.

┼†‡

Now there was an even bigger challenge for Elizabeth- to find her sire. Making her way towards the public square, the only comfort she had were the things in her suitcase, including her sire's precious brooch.

The executioner returned to the stage as he gestured with his arms to quiet the crowd, "We have a bit of a delay. One prisoner has been… misplaced. There will be a short break for the time being before our next beheading." The crowd booed and moaned in response.

Spike was at the tail end of the crowd as he watched from a very far distance. He only caught bits of what was said, but he understood with the reaction from the people that they had noticed he was missing. He smirked beneath his hood, "Wouldn't know he's hiding in plain sight." He turned to leave, shuffling through bodies as he peered over heads to see if he could catch a glimpse of Elizabeth's cloak.

┼†‡

The sun reflected off of the blue velvet cloak Elizabeth wore as she continued to look for her sire, thinking it wise to stay at the back of the crowd as she heard the angry boos of the disappointed crowd. Glancing around, she searched for the dark green cloak she had given him and eventually saw it. Walking up to the cloaked figure, she gave a tap on the shoulder.

The person turned around to face her, "Oui?" a woman looked to her quizzically, wondering what she wanted.

"Oh, I am so sorry," she said as if she had accidentally bumped into her.

Meanwhile, Spike drifted along the current of the crowd as he also searched for his separated progeny, "Tell me to return to this madness and we can't even find each other," he growled under his breath. Several feet away, he caught a glimpse of the blue he often saw her wear, "Eliz-" he began to call out in his normal voice when some people glanced in his direction to see that the voice emanated from one who wore women's clothing. He lowered his head and pushed forward as he sighed. This time, he squawked in a much higher register, "Elizabeth!" He cleared his throat, thinking how unconvincing he sounded, and possibly garnered even more odd stares. "Elizabeth!" he hissed, trying again.

Elizabeth suddenly turned at the sound of her name as her eyes searched for her sire.

"I'm over bloody here!"

Following his calls, she moved quickly as he came into her sights.

Spike glared at a man who raised an arched brow at him, "And what of it?" Spike snarled at him more quietly in his normal masculine voice.

Finally reaching him, Elizabeth put her hand on his shoulder with a kind yet urgent smile.

Spike breathed a sigh of relief as he gave her an unamused look, "Where to now, captain?" he asked more quietly, not bothering to put on a falsetto now that she was within earshot.

Elizabeth was now thinking on her feet since her plan had worked this far, "The nearest available train possible," she answered. For a sweet and timid girl, she was very resourceful and brave to go this far for a man who mocked and threw her across a church.

"No," Spike said, "I need to go somewhere first," he looked into her eyes with all seriousness. With policemen scattered amongst the crowd, the townsfolk grew more unruly. They grabbed at some men that vaguely fit Spike's description, dressed in long grey coats. Spike took ahold of Elizabeth's hand and pulled her along, making sure to keep his head lowered, just as a policeman crossed his path.

Elizabeth gave him a curious look. He would usually pull her along by her arm like a parent would to an unruly child, but this entire situation was completely different, even when this was a matter of life and death. Where could he possibly have to go that he would risk this opportunity to escape? And why would be he so reckless in his killing, even attacking a child no less to put them in this mess?

Spike moved quickly and quietly, ever careful to not arise any suspicious stares. When they had left the crowd behind them, he let go of Elizabeth's hand and steadily picked up his pace, expecting Elizabeth to do the same. The streets appeared like a ghost town, shops having closed for the public execution; without people there to witness them, it made it easier for them to move about. Finally, after about half an hour of travelling, Spike approached a single levelled building that still appeared to be open. But it was for good reason. As they neared, the smell of illness and death was perceptible, for mortals or immortals.

Spike pushed open the door and walked into the hospice to see the same suffering and chaos as before. Elizabeth walked among the sick and dying, wishing there was something she could do to save or help them. Spike moved along the narrow aisle, glancing briefly at the people who lay in the cots as he passed by, then stopped at the foot of someone's bed.

"That's not him," he said, peering down at the man who lay there wheezing. Spike spun around, his brows stitched together as he glanced about the room at the different faces, "Where is he?" He approached one of the nurses as she tried to step past, " _Excusez-moi,"_ he began, " _le petit garçon,"_ he pointed at the bed where the man lay instead of a little boy, " _où est-il?"_ Spike asked where he was. The nurse looked frazzled, taking a moment to realise she was being spoken to. She looked to the bed, trying to remember who was there before, then turned to look at the strange hooded man.

" _Le garçon, il est mort,"_ she turned to look back at the bed, her voice tired.

"He… he's dead? What do you mean he's _dead?_ " Spike said in English, taking a step towards her as he grew more hostile. Elizabeth watched in silence, finding it odd that her sire wanted to check on a boy and seemed to care whether he was alive or dead. The nurse's eyes grew large as she peered up at him. Taking a few staggering steps back, she spoke rapidly in French, saying she didn't understand what he was saying or what he wanted. "When? _Quand?_ " Spike demanded, taking another step towards her.

" _Il y a deux jours,"_ she stammered.

"Two bloody days ago? _Two?"_ Spike cried incredulously, visibly upset by all this. Another nurse came by her colleague to see if she was all right. When she peered up at Spike, she dropped her tray of utensils as she screamed in horror.

"I-it's him…!" she stammered in French. "He was the one who killed the doctor!" she pointed.

"Shut it, you harlot! I ain't here to off you!" he growled. He turned around to leave that chaos, placing a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder as he led them out.

Why would he risk getting spotted just to check on a boy when he killed a doctor in the same place? Elizabeth thought as she walked out with him calmly. "Who… who was the boy?" she asked, wondering what exactly happened after he had left the hotel a few days ago.

"It doesn't matter any more," he growled, kicking debris in his path, "I missed him by two days, right after I got locked up," he laughed bitterly. "He was the only one left that knew where they were, and he bloody died on me before I got that outta him. Shouldn't have bloody drained that drug addicted doctor," he growled, "or I would have got to him instead of getting knocked out. Now the trail's cold and I have to start from scratch again." He let out a long and low sigh, too wrapped up in his own emotions to notice Elizabeth's reactions.

Elizabeth listened closely and put the pieces together, "That is why you've been so unhappy lately. You were looking for her," she said, her voice calm and sympathetic.

"You're as bright as an unpolished doorknob. Only took you, hmm, almost a fortnight and the cause of my death for you to realise," Spike's voice dripped with sarcasm. Although she wasn't to blame for any of the events that had happened, Spike wasn't exactly one to share his feelings or plans with others either; he couldn't blame her for not knowing his emotional burdens.

When they arrived at the station, Elizabeth paid for two tickets for the next available train, anywhere that was but there. "She shouldn't have abandoned you," she said with a little bit of concern.

"She didn't abandon me," Spike said in Drusilla's defense as he glared, "Angelus _took_ her from me!" In any form of the matter, whether Angelus had indeed kidnapped her by force, coerced her, or if Drusilla had agreed to leave without persuasion, Spike still believed the fault of the events happening solely rested on Angelus' shoulders. Angelus was the one who twisted Drusilla into what she was that day, and anything she leaned to in his favour was because he had fashioned her to his liking. "If I hadn't been spending time eating pastries and drinking tea around town with you, I might have found them by now!" he hissed, feeling she had a share in him unable to find the other two vampires. There was no whining or snarky comeback as she let him yell at her, Elizabeth only gave a gentle nod, knowing that he was upset. He loved the woman who treated her like a daughter- or living doll. Perhaps this was what he needed.

Her eyes held an amount of sympathy and concern, and maybe even a dash of envy. She was proud of being herself- a chaste nun of a vampire- but it always made her wonder what it was like to be in love. When she had seen her older brother spin a woman in the gardens, she had wondered what it would be like to be looked at in that way. "The train will arrive in a few minutes. I purchased the last tickets to Frankfurt," she said calmly as she sat down on a bench.

Spike folded his arms over his chest, letting a low sigh pass his lips, "What the bloody hell is in Frankfurt?" he muttered to himself. A smile came to her lips in response, but she remained silent rather than further rile him. It didn't matter where they travelled to now, he knew this, as long as they didn't remain in Paris. All his current leads had ended up cold, so it was a shot in the dark with anywhere they headed to next; he just hoped to find more clues to where Drusilla and Angelus were presiding. Spike didn't bother to sit, choosing to stand idly a little ways from Elizabeth; he simmered in his own thoughts as he waited for the train in silence.

┼†‡

When they boarded the train, Spike was met with an odd stare from the ticket inspector. Too tired from the past few days of events to respond, he shuffled after Elizabeth and slumped down next to her in their little corner cabin. He shut the blinds to avoid the daylight's glare, but kept his hood on.

"I'm in a dress, the bloke over yonder is making eyes at me, and I haven't made a good meal of someone in the past couple days," he said absently, leaning back in his seat. "I feel like I'm slipping a bit." He gave a little sigh as he leaned back against his seat. Closing his eyes, he clasped his hands together as he rested them atop of his stomach, "Wake me when we arrive," he mumbled to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth giggled and nodded in response as she continued to crochet her blanket. It was rather domestic of her, but it kept her calm and busy when they travelled, and especially when she spent time alone.

┼†‡

**Frankfurt - November 28, 1880**

They arrived in Germany hours later, just as the sun was setting. Elizabeth stood from her seat and gave her sire a gentle shake before leaving him a change of clothes on his lap. Spike woke. He felt more tired than before- eyes bleary, his mind a fog- but they had finally reached their destination, so he had ample time to rest in peace. "We're here," she said softly. She left to give him more privacy as she waited outside the train.

Picking up the clothes, Spike stood and removed his cloak. Now fully exposing the unflattering dress, he certainly did catch someone's eye. A man lay in wait in the next cabin, seeing to it that everyone had departed to leave them alone. Though what he didn't expect, was that he was stalking a predator.

Spike stepped off the train shortly after, dressed in a pair of fitted trousers and a shirt as he pulled his arm through the sleeve of his newly acquired black coat. "Shall we?" he appeared more vitalised with a bit of colour to his wan face, and even the slightest bit chipper.

Elizabeth nodded and smiled a bit, noticing him to be a lot more pleasant than before, "We shall. I was told there was a nice hotel nearby. About a block over," she said with certainty. Spike burped as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and began to walk alongside Elizabeth. She was a sweet and unassuming girl and she began to use that to aid them in their travels. People were more likely to help and talk to her rather than her handsome yet shifty sire.

Spike gave a nod at her reply, glancing about the new and strange developments before him. This was the farthest he'd travelled from home, and a language he had no knowledge of whatsoever. Elizabeth on the other hand appeared to be confident with where they were headed, which made him wonder what more she knew that she wasn't sharing.

┼†‡

Finding the hotel that Elizabeth had mentioned, she stood at the front counter as she spoke to the concierge in German, "Hello, do you have any vacancies for two?"

"Ah, we do, miss. Is the top floor all right?"

"That would be lovely," she said as she paid for the room. Allowing Elizabeth to take control of the situation, Spike simply watched from a short distance. They followed the bellhop who showed them to their room.

Spike shut the door behind them and turned to Elizabeth, "So you speak German." He strolled into the room and glanced about him, then resigned to slumping down on the sofa as he swung an arm over the backrest and propped his legs up on the coffee table before him. "Next to picking locks and having the know-how to swindle guards from having a man being executed, what other nasty secrets are you hiding?" he said with an arched brow.

The young vampire chuckled and sat down on a chair across from him with a nod, "My mother and father loved to travel and taught me a few things. They also believed that being cultured was very important. Though, I only know French and German. I do not have many secrets," she said with a cunning smile.

"Your mother and father taught you how to pick a lock?" his brow seemed to be fixed in the arched position. Spike was from a family of wealth as well, and was in fact home schooled, but none of his teachings included a repertoire of lock picking.

Elizabeth gave a lighthearted laugh and looked down as if she were remembering something, "When I was younger, my brother would lock me in closets and told me that if I wanted to get out, I would have to let myself out instead of crying. I always cried until someone found me. A gardener taught me how to pick locks, so my brother grew tired of locking me in," she said with a sigh as she remembered her family.

"What an arsehole," Spike commented. He had had his share of bullies. Although he was never locked in confined spaces, his attacks were of the passive aggressive variety- openly mocking, teasing and laughing at him; they made him feel lesser than how he already felt about himself.

Elizabeth giggled a bit in agreement, but knew it was all in childish fun. In the end, her brother loved her dearly and she likewise.

"Elizabeth Lorn," Spike mused out loud, "Lorn…," he leaned his head back as he gazed at the ceiling in thought, "why does that name sound familiar…," he speculated.

"My father was a man of great influence. A pillar of the aristocracy," Elizabeth said. A statement that was full of admiration as well as resentment.

"Yes, I believe I've heard his name exchanged in a few of my circles," Spike replied, referring to his human life. "What does he do?"

She turned to him, intrigued by his interest in her father, forgetting that he was once a highborn man himself. "Duke Xavier Lorn. He managed books and estate. He even had a hand in the plans for The Great Exhibition," she said with a slight bit of pride in her voice. She loved her father, but it was a love well strained by his personality and how he treated her in comparison to her brother.

"Oh, I've heard of him," Spike leaned his head against a fisted hand. "My mother had mentioned him before. Had ties with my father." This was something he hadn't recalled in a very long time, even within his circles. The people there were too preoccupied with ridiculing his bloody poetry than to take interest in his personal life. "Powerful and wealthy man," he gave a little lean to his head, then peered at her. "Odd, I never came across you before." Elizabeth raised her brows a bit and looked back at him. This was quite the coincidence, she thought.

"I did not socialise much. I went to socials with my mother, but did not attend any of the parties- a rule of Father's."

"Still an overbearing traditionalist, I see," Spike commented. "I wouldn't say you missed much," he added, looking to the side as he thought how he had endured those nights in awkward and forced conversation.

"You might have met my brother. He always attended parties," she said softly, jealousy lacing her reminiscent voice.

"Your brother's name? I'm sure I'd remember it with the prestige of a Lorn," he inquired.

Elizabeth tilted her head a bit, wondering when and why he would be at one of her father's parties. "Jonathan. He looked a lot like my father, but with green eyes like my mother. Long hair, about to his neck. Father hated it, but Jonathan said the girls found it handsome," she reflected with a small laugh "Why? Did you know him?" she asked curiously, growing more intrigued by the second.

"Jonathan...," Spike glanced down as he imagined a man fitting her description, then it dawned on him. Reminiscing to a distant past, there was a man they'd often just refer to as Jon. He was loud and outspoken, and Spike distinctly remembered his laughter- how often he'd laugh and make fun of his craft. Spike's eyes hardened a bit as it hit close to home, "Yes, actually, I _do_ remember your brother. He often liked to hear himself speak." He did not care to elaborate, but it was for certain that he and Jon were not friends.

Hearing his tone, Elizabeth raised her brows as she cast her eyes down, "He was like that sometimes, especially if he had someone to impress. Father was always so proud of how smart and strapping he was. He was a good brother though," she said as if that was one of his few redeeming qualities. The nuanced change in her expression and the drop in her tone indicated that they both shared a few similar feelings when it came to her brother.

"Huh," Spike scoffed, not believing her.

Elizabeth tilted her head in confusion at his reaction. "He was Father's pride and joy, smart and capable," she said, lowering her voice and gesturing proudly as she imitated her father; she rolled her eyes.

"I don't doubt he was," Spike stood to remove his coat, then draped it over the sofa. "You must have been simpering with envy; vying for the affection your father showed him instead of you." Spike walked across the room and poked around the liquor there before returning with a decanter and two glasses. He sat down again, setting a glass in front of him and one in front of Elizabeth, then poured a couple of fingers worth for the both of them. "To loving parents," Spike raised his glass to her.

With a smile, she clinked her glass against his and nodded, "To loving parents," she said. She sipped her drink and coughed a bit at the strength while Spike watched with amusement. Being a sheltered girl, she only had wine on holidays and at church. She set her glass down next to her and shook her head, "I was," she finally admitted to his previous assumption. She dared another sip, "Jon had many options ahead of him. When he met a woman he loved, Father celebrated his choice. He never planned to give me any such option," she said as she raised her brows, the resentment coming back to her voice.

Spike gulped a mouthful down with ease, "Is that why he so willingly let you join a convent?"

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders a bit, "He did not like the idea at first, but he relented when I told him I heard the call. A week before I had told him I wanted to join the convent, he had informed me that he was talking about a possible marriage between me and a man. He did not even tell me his name!" she said with outrage. "All he could say to ease my shock was: 'Not to worry dear, he is not THAT much older than you. And he also likes books.' As if he were introducing a governess and not a husband," she said as she shook her head.

"Surely he'd allow you the privilege to reject the proposal after meeting him before giving you away," Spike said, finishing off his drink. "He might have been an ineffectual fool," he poured himself another glass and nestled back in his seat. "My mother never forced her hand, but gently suggested I meet a friend's daughter. She always worried I'd be alone in life," he laughed a little bitterly before taking a sip.

"She sounds like a kind and open-minded woman."

"She… she was very astute to my needs and wellbeing," Spike agreed, feeling a little sting as he said it. "I didn't take the same interest as others. I abhorred the idea she'd even suggest such a thing. She didn't relent until I had confessed that I already had my heart set on another," he sighed a bit, feeling the effects of nostalgia, or perhaps the effects of the alcohol- or both.

"My father was just so stuck in his station, it was as if I were a valued horse rather than his daughter," she sighed.

"I suppose we share some things in common," Spike glanced to Elizabeth.

"I suppose we do," she said as she glanced back at him. She sipped at her drink, having gotten a little more used to it, "Do you like to read?" she asked as she tilted her head.

"Would you find it odd that I was rather bookish in my former years?" he raised his brows and swigged a bit of his drink back, finding that making a comparison with his current self possibly shocking. "I enjoyed literature, but it was poetry that I took immense pleasure in."

"So have I. On rainy days, I would read sonnets and plays for hours. It was as if I were there and the characters were performing just for me. 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' is my favourite," she said with a smile, drinking a bit more.

" _If we shadows have offended_  
_Think but this, and all is mended-_  
_That you have but slumbered here_  
_While these visions did appear._  
_And this weak and idle theme,_  
_No more yielding but a dream,_ "

she recited with a dreamlike quality to her voice, as if she were on the stage herself.

"Ah, Shakespeare," Spike nodded. "Interesting you chose that part to quote," he paused as he swirled his glass and glanced down to recall his own thoughts. " _Love can transpose to form and dignity. / Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind. / And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind._ " He took a sip, "I personally liked that part best."

Listening to him recite another part of the play, she rested her cheek in her palm with a small smile, "I loved that play so much. I never thought anyone could recall it off the top of their head like that. I thought I was the only one."

"It's by the Bard, 'course I'd take an interest in it," he replied matter-of-factly. "I know a few of his plays by heart, actually," he said, now not even trying to hide the fact he was bragging.

Elizabeth brightened up a bit at his interest, "What do you think of the Scottish play? I've heard some rather spooky things about its writing," she said as she sat up straight and leaned in as if a wall had lowered itself.

"Please," Spike scoffed, "just call it 'Macbeth'. And that's just bollocks. People are just scared, superstitious little ninnies. If something happens on the stage, they'll find anything to blame, even the title of a play."

"Then you don't believe the stories? How the spells came from real witches, that they put a curse on the play?" she asked with a slight laugh in her voice. She had always loved frightening tales, books, and legends.

Spike raised a brow at Elizabeth's enthusiasm, seeing how naive she really was, "That's just a tall tale to keep things lively in the playhouse. What attracts more attention than a play that is cursed? People seek danger and excitement," he gave a shrug and sipped at his drink. "If we ever come across a witch, we can ask her about it. Settle things. How's that sound?" he suggested.

Elizabeth thought a bit, a shy look coming over her face until she nodded, "Should be interesting to get an answer," she giggled a bit until she calmed down. "I had a small fondness for spooky tales. 'The Tell-Tale Heart' was a good story. I would read it when thunder would roll and fog would sit just above the lawn."

"Oh, really?" Spike raised a brow as a mischievous smile came over his face. "They say a lot can be said about a person with the choice of their reading material. Makes me wonder with you roving the streets at night. Was that a way for you to meet something that would make your skin crawl?" he sipped his drink and waved his brows at her suggestively.

Elizabeth gave a nervous giggle and tried to shake it off, "What are you suggesting? I was walking alone to meet a ghost?" she said, just exhibiting more naiveté.

"Mm, something a bit more corporeal," Spike smirked.

Elizabeth blushed and looked down at her lap out of embarrassment, "Of course not…," she said timidly.

Spike leaned forward and poured himself another glass, "Well, love," he replaced the lid and sat back with drink in hand, giving her that trademark smile of his, "you met me, didn't you?" And with that, he drank.

"I was not looking for you," she said in her defense as her eyes remained cast down to her lap; she fought back blushes and the urge to run away.

Spike playfully shrugged, "If not me, than probably some other creature of the night. Not as dashing. Or charming. Oh, and to think he'd actually do the job properly and you'd be dead." He glanced to the side as he mumbled into his drink, "Lucky bastard."

"I do not know what you read, but I am not some vixen with a death wish," she said, sipping her drink again.

"So you say," Spike began, "but your subconscious will betray and show you what's hidden within your heart. 'Actions speak louder than words,'" he tilted his head as he peered at her, then finished off his drink. "Something to think about," he gave a small chuckle as he set down his glass and made headway towards the bathroom. "I'm in dire need of a bath. I can still smell the lingering scent of rat on me," he said as he shut the door behind him.

Looking down, she didn't say another word. Not in bitter silence, but reflection with a pit in her stomach. What if she did not trust herself? No, that was not possible. It couldn't be. Perhaps this was just another test. After all, how could a virtuous girl be tested? Put her next to the devil. Shutting her eyes tight, Elizabeth took a calming sigh then got up to unpack. Changing into her nightgown, she slipped on her gloves to read the bible she had taken with her. She sat on the sofa with it in her hands as her lips began to move silently as she read to herself.

┼†‡

Spike left the bathroom, now fresh and clean. With shirt and pants on, he rubbed at his dripping hair with a towel, "Why the bloody hell are you doing that for?" he asked as he caught Elizabeth reading from the bible. It was the strangest sight for a vampire to behold another vampire doing. It'd be sacrilegious if vampires had their own version of the bible.

Elizabeth had a slight smile on her face as she read. He had no idea how comforting it was for her to even hold a bible in her hands, to go through the trouble of discovering that wearing gloves meant she could touch it again. Hearing him, she did not look up from the pages as she simply replied: "It comforts me."

Spike gave her a strange look from across the room as he continued to rub his head. He knew she had her quirks from before, but she had now taken to continue her religious studies in her unlife as a demon who no longer had a soul. What would she be praying for, he wondered. He glanced down at the floor and gave a little sigh and shrug, then plopped the damp towel on top of the dresser as he fluffed his hair, still feeling some inevitable moisture there. He sat on the floor as he donned his boots, "I'm just going to see what this city has to offer," he explained, not bothering to glance up. "I won't be long. I'll return before sunrise," he paused and looked up at her, "and if I don't, you know where to find me," he said, half jokingly.

She looked up with a small smile, "I'll keep a hairpin handy. Good night," she said with a little giggle to her voice. When he left, she turned back to her reading in her own calm world of silence. The scriptures and doctrines gave her structure to her world, something that was crumbling in her grasp when she suddenly had the life of a demon thrust upon her. All she wanted was to be normal as she always was- or wasn't. This was a night she spent in. Almost counting on the bible to diffuse any thoughts her sire had put into her head. Reading into the early hours of the morning, she fell asleep as the book fell open to the floor from her hand.

┼†‡

Spike was able to distract himself momentarily by killing a random stranger, even managing to elicit a few chuckles in the process, but when the adrenaline wore off, he was left with his thoughts once more. He gave a despondent sigh as he picked off anything of value from the body and strolled around the neighbourhood, not paying too much attention to the open night life. He enjoyed travelling, but without his partner in crime, he felt very alone. Elizabeth had been forced to be his companion for the past couple weeks, and although he knew she'd be more than willing to lend an ear, he was not one to share his feelings so openly.

He found he had wandered in front of a pub and decided to refill himself on some drinks to numb his mind, finding something called apple wine that was regional to the area. Spike stayed till the pub closed, even making a drunk friend in the process. It had begun with the man blurting something random at him. Spike returned the verbal banter with his flair for sharp wit. Eventually, the pair ended up both purging their burdens as complete strangers who had no understanding of each other whatsoever.

"My wicked goddess, my Drusilla, I have no idea where she is, mate," Spike cried, looking very dejected. The man would then say his riff, and Spike would continue, "That Angelus, when I get my hands on him, he won't be able to retract his fangs for weeks to come!" he growled, miming his hands in a choking manner. His German friend got excited by his reaction and slammed his fist on the table, then said something in an overly enthusiastic and loud tone. He then brought his glass towards Spike and they gave a toast, in which they then proceeded to down their foamy beverages.

They ended up leaving together with their arms over each other's shoulders, laughing merrily and drunkenly down the dark street. The man slapped him on the back when they reached a stop. Turning to him, he patted him hard on the shoulders, and gave him one final pep talk, even going so far as to pointing a finger in his face.

"I got no idea what you just said, mate," Spike smiled, feeling a little elated. The man laughed and smacked him on the side of the arm once more, then waved as he turned the opposite direction. Spike watched as he left, then like him, turned the other way and walked back to the hotel. He entered the room just as dawn broke, stumbling as he kicked off his boots and shirked his coat. Then, slumping face forward onto the bed, he fell fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _Cacher ma tête? -_ Cover my head?  
>  _Excusez-moi, le petit_ _garçon_ _, où est-il? -_ Excuse me, the little boy, where is he?  
>  _Le garçon, il est mort. -_ The boy, he is dead.  
>  _Quand?_ \- When?  
>  _Il y a deux jours. -_ Two days ago.


	14. Day 15: Proximity of the Beloved One

That evening, Elizabeth awoke to find she had fallen asleep whilst reading. She stood as she picked the bible up off the floor, then placed it into the bedside drawer. Turning to her side, she saw her sire still fully clothed and asleep- she assumed he had gone to a pub last night. Giving her head a small shake, she smiled with amusement; she was starting to get used to his ways the more they travelled together. She also had to accept the fact that he was currently the only friend she had. As she went into the bathroom and had a bath, she wondered what she wanted to do that night.

Spike woke with a start. His body jerked upward, causing him to push his face off the pillow as he gave a little snort, "Yellow doesn't match my complexion," he blurted out. He looked around the room in confusion, realising that he wasn't locked in a squalid dungeon, then rested his head back down. He wiped at his face with his palm as the sour aftertaste of cider still lingered in his mouth. The atmosphere at the pub was pleasant; he considered going there throughout their stay in Frankfurt. If he happened to meet his German friend again, he'd share his time in good company.

Spike sat up and walked over to the wardrobe. Having neglected seeing what Elizabeth had brought with her on their travels, he checked what she had packed for him. He shuffled around the clothes, not finding what he was looking for.

"Elizabeth, where did you bloody hide my brooch?" he called out loudly.

Elizabeth paused from washing her hair as she gave the question some thought, "I put it in the pocket of the case," she called back. She was very wary about the object, considering her sire had stolen it from the pavilion that sold sins. Since her ordeal with gluttony, she did not want to risk having another sin have its hold on her.

Spike pulled his beloved little trinket from within the deep pocket of the luggage, "Ah," he smiled triumphantly as he peered at it between his thumb and forefinger. He didn't know what sort of mystical power it held, but he liked to daydream about what it could do. Not bothering with it just yet, he set it within the dresser drawer for his own peace of mind. He peeked out the window as the world outside lost light, "What do you know about Frankfurt?" he called out. "Your parents tell you any stories of it?"

Getting out of the tub, Elizabeth dried off and pulled her hair up into a loose bun to keep her dress dry. "They told me how friendly people were here. How the food was hearty and delicious. And the marvellous Alte Oper, they told me they would take me to see it one day," she said as she walked to the window.

"What's at this… 'Alte Oper'?" Spike inquired, hoping it didn't have to do with religion. If it did, he would have to decide if he wanted to join her on that excursion or not.

"It is this wonderful opera house they visited not too long ago. They said it was beautiful and ornate," she explained as a far away look came to her eyes, something that happened when she thought of something beautiful.

"Sounds like something to do," Spike nodded, glad there was at least some form of entertainment there. With the bathroom now vacant, he prepared himself for that night out. "How's about some blood, carnage, then some relaxing opera to end the evening?" Spike asked as he stepped back out. Although it sounded like it was just a plan for a vampire on vacation, at the back of his mind, he was still thinking of ways to find Drusilla.

Elizabeth was at first put off by the suggestion as before, but after a little consideration, she nodded, "As long as I go off on my own for supper," she said with a little smile as she waved a hairpin in her hand. Spike was not at all amused with her teasing.

"I was compromised, for bloody sakes," he sighed. Elizabeth giggled at his defensive reply. "Shall we meet outside the opera house before the show, then?" he suggested. "Oh, and we're supposed to 'dress' properly for the occasion," Spike said, remembering his dressing etiquette. "Find a dolled up rich girl if you manage to. Probably best to change after supper to avoid any 'spills'."

The young vampire nodded, "Of course," she said softly.

Once dressed, they left and departed on their separate ways.

┼†‡

Spike had some fun out on a chase. He found a solitary young woman, walking alone on the street, very much like he had with Elizabeth. After noticing the similarities between the two feedings, Spike remembered to break her neck, fearing he might have to deal with another unwanted progeny.

He supposed since he had informed Elizabeth about dressing for that evening, he'd put a little effort into it as well- not that there was that much for a man to do. He had most of his outfit already- a coat, shoes- although not very tidy ones- trousers, and a shirt. He'd need to find something to give it a bit more flair than the dull and sombre black colours he was already wearing. Trotting from a distance towards his direction were a couple of upperclassmen dressed perfectly for the part.

"Fancy meeting you, gentlemen," Spike said, suddenly appearing in front of them. They looked to him, startled. One of them had a cane; both wore top hats and gloves. They said something to him in German and tried to move past him. "No, not yet, I haven't yet taken what I've come for," Spike laughed. They continued to walk on by, thinking that he was just a drunken nuisance, when Spike suddenly jumped one of the men's backs. He clamped his palm firmly over the man's mouth and nose as his other arm encircled around his neck. The man flailed his arms about wildly, trying hard to shake him from his body, but to no avail. The vampire clung to him tightly, laughing as though he were riding a bull. Just as the man's friend was ready to strike with his cane, Spike gave a quick twist of the man's neck. The body stood still momentarily before dropping forward with the momentum of his weight. His friend stared wide-eyed in shock, cane held frozen in midair as he tried to register what had just happened. After gathering his wits, he tried to attack once more as he swung downward with renewed vigour. Spike caught the cane and elbowed the man in the face, sending him buckling backwards onto the cobblestone road. The sound of an ugly crack was heard when the back of his skull hit the ground. Spike picked what he needed from the two men as he completed his ensemble. "I think… I've got all that I need now," he smiled at the two bodies.

As he headed to the opera house, now with an added white silk ascot cravat, black vest, leather gloves, top hat, and cane, he waited for Elizabeth to arrive.

┼†‡

Walking down the roads, Elizabeth hummed a bit to herself. She had her purse at her side and an unassuming smile on her lips as she always had. Eventually, she ran into some easy supper. Drunks were a lecherous bunch and easy to pin down. After her meal, she ended up coming across a storefront where a lovely dress was displayed in the window. She immediately rushed in and bought it. It was blue with gold accents and less prudish than what she normally wore. Giddy with excitement, she went back to the hotel to get ready. Exchanging her childish look for something a bit more mature, she looked entirely different, from her dress to her hair. She pinned her hair up in curls while soft ones framed her face, something that was completely different from the bookish bun she sometimes wore under hats. She even looked like she had pinched her cheeks just for that blushing glow. Finally finishing her ensemble with her white gloves, Elizabeth left for the opera house. She walked up the steps with a smile as she looked for her sire, trying her best to contain her excitement.

┼†‡

As Spike waited, he kept a vigilant eye out, peering over a crescendo of top hats and coiffed hair, but didn't see his progeny yet. With the luck of his heightened vampire senses, he caught her scent before seeing her. He glanced about him, wondering where she could be. People went through the doors in droves as they were now being seated, yet Spike still could not see her. Finally, to his surprise, there she was, standing in plain sight; the figure of a woman, one he had passed over several times as he did not expect her to look so… different. But of course, she was in a blue dress, he should have known better, he thought. As the time grew closer for the opera to commence, Spike did not wave to catch her attention, he simply watched her for a moment longer from afar.

┼†‡

Elizabeth looked around with a little more urgency. All the men looked alike as she walked aimlessly through the crowd, trying to find her sire through the sea of coats and hats. Turning away from the house doors, she looked out, hoping to see him.

Letting out a chuckle, Spike slowly walked up to her, "Elizabeth, scurrying around like the lost little mouse you are." Although he was teasing, he didn't have the harsh and sarcastic tone he usually held. It was somewhat… lighthearted. The young woman turned around and looked down with a genuine shy smile, finding his words not cruel, but almost endearing. "We must take our seats now if we do not wish to miss the opening number," Spike said, putting on a show with his accent- though in reality, he really wasn't- and offered his arm to her. With a nod, she took his arm as they walked in, making it appear like they were a young and proper couple.

Seated amongst the general crowd, Elizabeth sat next to her sire as she listened to the opening score. She tilted her head to the side and rested her index finger against her cheek bone as if she were painting a picture with her mind. It was the same look she held when she would recite Shakespeare.

Spike held his hat within his lap as he set his eyes upon the performers on the stage. As a young man, he found theatre, plays, and musical numbers moving; for someone who considered himself an artist of words, he understood the craftsmanship they brought to others. Though, as he now sat listening to the woman bellow, he came to the harrowing realisation that in his new unlife, he did not have the same taste for operas. He remained still in that moment, wishing they had instead taken a box seat. He would have had the freedom to lounge about more comfortably, but instead, had to endure the excited breathing of the man seated next to him. Spike sighed, wondering what he could possibly do to entertain himself. He would endure it till the first intermission, then tell Elizabeth that he couldn't stand that form of torture any more.

Elizabeth sighed softly as she watched, listening with such captivity as her other hand moved in her lap as if it were conducting the orchestra below. During her sheltered life, she poured herself into works of art such as these, letting them take her to a place of beauty and wonder. Taking in the lovely sets and music, she turned to her sire. She looked at him with pale blue eyes that held excitement and gratitude of a young girl who was in a place that filled her with happiness. Spying this small movement from the corner of his eye, Spike turned to look back at her. Not uttering a word, she tilted her head as if to say 'thank you' before returning her attention to the stage.

Spike was puzzled. His lips parted slightly as he tried to make sense of this. He let his gaze stray on her for a bit after she had turned her attention back to the opera, finding her more interesting than what was going on under the bright lights. Turning his head slowly back around, he gave a little sigh as he wondered what she might have been experiencing. That look of wonder in her eyes like a child's, he wished he could have that again.

It was a place of calm and beauty for her. As the music swelled in the air, the painting in her mind grew with each passing moment. It was one of the benefits of being isolated so often as a child, time allowing her imagination room to grow. Within the pages of her books, she saw beautiful things, and even had secrets she was too shy to tell him. The more she listened and watched the number, the more she was consumed in it. The singers, the costumes, and the music were all a part of a world that comforted her in days of loneliness. As the first act came to a close and the curtains were drawn shut, she smiled excitedly as she applauded, and turned to give her sire the same look of gratitude once more.

Spike gave a little sigh of relief as he clapped with less enthusiasm, almost in a mocking manner. Standing with the rest of the crowd, he left his seat during the intermission and proceeded out the exits, clearly isolated in his own bubble of boredom as opera aficionados gushed from the first act. Spike gave another sigh and looked over to Elizabeth who wore an exuberant smile just like the other patrons. He couldn't fathom what she appreciated so much about it.

"Enjoying yourself?" he said, more as an observation.

Elizabeth loved the performance but probably for a bigger reason than anyone else there could have known. The young vampire turned to her sire as she happily nodded, "I am. This is better than any story," she said as she looked around her until her gaze fell upon him again.

"I don't think I could stand another act," he confessed, "or I might just cast myself on stage and make her sing to a different tune." It wasn't a threat, merely his way of sharing his sentiments. "If you wish to stay, you may; you seem to fit in here quite well, actually. I'll take my leave and see you back at the hotel, yes?"

Her look did not change as much; the bright light in her eyes dimmed and her smile got a little smaller as she nodded once more, "Yes, have a good night," she said softly before walking back inside for the second act.

Spike was grateful to finally leave the opera house. He abandoned the top hat to the side of the road, but found the cane made him feel a little superior in a way. He let it swing as he strut along. With the time spent to explore more of the city without constraints, the vampire may have gotten himself into a bit of a mess- a little too figuratively.

┼†‡

It was a wonderful night and an even more peaceful walk back to the hotel room. That was until Elizabeth found a trail of muddy clothes, boots, and footprints leading to the bathroom door. She sighed as she took off her gown, feeling a little more at ease with the bathroom door closed. Humming a little tune she had heard from the opera, she pulled the pins out of her hair, then shook her locks loose as she put on her nightgown. Like the night before, she moved to the sofa to read some passages from the bible.

Spike left the bathroom after a lengthy bit of time had passed. Steam billowed out from around him as he opened the door; his face was flush and pink like a newborn baby, and he was swaddled up to his chin in a white bathrobe. What had started out as a peaceful and rather pleasant evening at the opera was void from the male's expression. With a furrowed brow and scowl etched on his face, he ploughed through the room and took a seat at the opposite end of the sofa from Elizabeth.

He sighed out of frustration as he rubbed hard at his wet hair, "Bloody hell! I've had two baths, _two_ , and I still can't get all the blooming mud out!" he growled, clearly a picture of grumpiness. "In my ears, my nose, I can even taste the grittiness in my teeth," he huffed, his lips turning out a bit in an unavoidable pout. "I won't even mention the other places." He held his wrinkled fingers up, "Soaked in the damn water for so long, my fingers pruned up!"

Elizabeth looked at him and tilted her head to the side with a curious look on her face, "What happened to you?" she asked as she closed her bible and set it on the table. "Did you attack a farm?" she asked with a light laugh to her voice.

Spike looked to her, his expression deadpan as he blinked. After a brief moment of silence, he spoke, totally ignoring how Elizabeth had just poked fun at him, "Traversing the great underground of Frankfurt, you know? Trying to put out my feelers to see if there might be any other hellions that might take the bait. But instead," he whipped the towel off his neck and flung it down into his lap, "I come across this bloody- I don't even know what it was. Made entirely of mud. Seemed like it lacked a mind, like someone was controllin' it." Spike picked up the towel and used a corner to rub at his ears, "Followed it to the banks of the Main River, to see if I could get some information, but when I tried to catch its attention, the bloody thing-" Spike motioned with his arms, as though he were flinging something from them. "It was like vomiting, but with its entire body," he glanced to Elizabeth. Elizabeth listened attentively, trying to make sense of his tale while the vision of it all caused her to smile as she tried to restrain her laughter. "Didn't get two words in after that," he scowled to see there were still remnants of dirt coming off on his towel, "the thing vanished after I cleared its refuse from my eyes." He gave a sigh and gave up on the towel, "And that leaves me here, wrinkled like a prune and mud still coming out of places I didn't think could. So," his expression reverted back to aloofness, "how was your evening?"

Looking back at him, Elizabeth's laugh came out as a light giggle, "It was wonderful. I have no other words for it. It was peaceful on the way back here. Germany is beautiful; much better than Paris at least."

At the sound of Elizabeth's laughter, Spike reacted appropriately with an unimpressed stare before speaking, "I can assure you, I share the same sentiments." Considering he was almost killed in Paris, anywhere else was better. Though, getting drenched in mud by some monster wasn't very high on his list either. "Although, it isn't so much the place as it is the shared experience," Spike said with the slightest hint of forlorn. It really didn't matter where he went, whether he was plucked up and spit out in some barren wasteland, if Drusilla was with him, he'd have a blast.

It was then that Elizabeth tilted her head as her look softened. She did not know what to say. He might have been her sire, but she hardly knew him. Elizabeth just nodded as a silent attempt to comfort him, gently encouraging him to talk about what was bothering him. It always struck her as odd how they could be ready to kill one another, but still look out for each other when the time called for it. It was then that a very forward question came from the otherwise shy girl, "You really love her, don't you?" It was not a snide remark, but more of a honest and curious question.

"She's the love of my life, my destiny," Spike replied, turning to look at her. He hadn't expected her to ask him about his relationship, or anything at all that seemed more personal- he honestly didn't think she had the gall to. "We were fated to meet that night," Spike reminisced, "to share an eternal lifetime together," his voice grew a little softer as he thought of his beloved. "I'm the luckiest man, to have her choose me," he smiled, one that had no evidence of a man that killed for the sheer amusement of it; it was innocent, pure, and one that held a deep love. "She saw something in me no one else could," he gave a little content sigh, "and that night, I was sired."

Elizabeth sat there politely and listened to him. He really loved this woman. It was a concept that always sparked a curiosity in her, like a kitten staring at a ball of yarn, but not sure what to do with it. Tilting her head again, she rested her cheek in her palm as she held a curious look of wonder in her eyes, "Sounds wonderful," she said softly.

"It truly is," Spike echoed her delicate tenor. Then he turned to peer at her, "Have you ever been in love before?" he paused, thinking it might have been moot asking someone who had decided to devote her life to God.

Elizabeth looked up at him and shook her head, "No, I haven't. I do remember seeing my brother in love. He spun this girl- Lucy, if memory serves- in the gardens. He was running around after her and laughing like he was a boy again," she said with a small smile as she began to miss her brother.

"When you fall in love, you'll understand how truly amazing it is," Spike said very honestly. "And to have the love returned… it's like there's nothing else there but the two of you. The concept of time vanishes when you're with them," he gave a little shrug and sighed softly, feeling more alone as he talked about Drusilla; he missed her terribly. "Best we turn in for the day, yes?" he said, glancing to the shut curtains as the sky outside lightened. He stood and went to the wardrobe to get prepared for bed.

Elizabeth wondered what love would feel like if she would ever fall in love at all. Nodding, she got up and went to her side of the bed, and with a sigh, closed her eyes.


	15. Day 16: All the World's a Stage

When Elizabeth opened her eyes that morning, she found herself in a lovely dress with the sunshine on her face. She was home, sitting in the gardens with a book nestled in her hands as always. Smiling at her surroundings, she laughed in relief as she began to read. That all must have been a bad dream, she thought.

"Always with your nose stuffed in a book," a voice called out from behind her, "the ink must be rubbing off on it."

Elizabeth turned to see her older brother strolling towards her, "Jon, please leave me be," she said, shaking her head.

He bent his head down over her shoulder as he smiled with mischief, "Don't you tire of reading the same old thing, over and over again, Lizzie? What is it today? Hmm, let's see!" He pulled the book from her grasp and walked away with it, "Oh, 'A Midsummer's Night Dream', eh? So predictable," he laughed, closing it shut and holding it away at arm's length.

Looking up at him, she shook her head and stood to her feet, "Give it back to me, Jon. Please? I was not bothering you," she said as she reached for the book.

He gave a low rumble of laughter at her dismay and pinched her nose before handing it back, "Always a little too serious, my dear little sister. You need to have a little more fun in your life," he smiled. Elizabeth held the book close to her as if it were in danger. "For example, there's a party I'll be attending tonight," he smoothed the front of his shirt and glanced her way. "If you ask nicely, maybe Father might change his mind and allow you out."

Looking up at her brother, she let a small smile show through, "Perhaps. But only if you go with me."

"It'd only be my duty to be your escort. However, once there, I cannot ensure you that I won't be whisked away," he smiled.

Elizabeth glanced up at the study window where their father spent most of his time. After walking through the manor, they soon found themselves standing outside of it. Elizabeth tapped on the door, then turned to give her brother a nervous look, "Father? Are you terribly busy?"

"Yes, what is it?" came a voice from inside.

"Elizabeth wishes to speak to you, concerning a matter," Jon called out preemptively before Elizabeth could reply, bowing his head as he smiled with mischievous intent. Elizabeth looked at her brother with narrow eyes.

There was a pause, then their father called back, "All right, you may come in." Jon looked to her then indicated with his head that she go on through.

Walking in, Elizabeth smiled politely when she saw her father seated behind his bureau. Duke Lorn was an intimidating man who only grew more formidable in his later glanced up at them as they approached.

"Jon has told me of a party and I wish to attend," Elizabeth said, trying to sound polite yet forthcoming, a little like her brother. Although she was shy, she always wanted to go to a party at least once.

"Did he now?" the Duke inquired, moving some papers aside before glancing up at his son. Jon stood by Elizabeth and met his father's gaze with a comfortable smile. Looking back at Elizabeth, their father clasped his hands in front of him, "And what, pray tell, does a young woman expect at a party? You already attend enough with the ones you spend with your mother, what more could you want from attending these?" he asked, his voice taking on a slight tone of criticism.

Elizabeth looked down. The gatherings she attended with her mother were social gatherings with other ladies- having tea and doing needlepoint while talking about the day. She loved spending time with her mother, but she rarely saw anyone else her age besides her brother who was four years her senior. She lifted her head, "I expect nothing, Father. Jon suggested it would be fun and invited me to attend with him," she said as she looked to her older brother.

"Your time is better spent elsewhere, doing things that are productive," their father replied as though his words rang some finality to it. "For instance, the young man that I had mentioned. We must arrange a date for you to meet if we are to have a proper engagement party," Duke Lorn said, sounding as though Elizabeth had already made up her mind about his plans for her future. Jon glanced down and raised his brows slightly, having no sway when it came to matters about what their father had to say with Elizabeth's life. Despite knowing she did not like how her future was governed, he could do little to help her.

Elizabeth sighed and looked at her brother, then turned her pale blue eyes to their father, "If I… may be frank, Father, I… do not know this man. Should I have time to see if he is a good man?" she asked. Elizabeth always believed that if her brother could marry for love, so could she. She also had other pressing matters on her mind like her call to God, something she had been struggling with for the past few days.

"Are you questioning my judgement?" their father's eyes challenged her.

"Oh, now you've done it," Jon whispered. Elizabeth lowered her head and looked up at her brother from the corner of her eye.

"I knew his father for a number a years before his unfortunate passing, God bless his soul. His mother is a lovely woman who raised him to be well educated and with _proper_ manners. He comes from a family of wealth, wherein his estate will be passed on to him once he is married; it is enough to raise you and a family of your own. What more could you ask for?" he asked her, as though her questioning him at all was foolish.

Elizabeth gripped the book in her hands a little tighter as she shly cast her eyes to the floor, "For… for him to love me," she said softly.

"Don't be a foolish girl, Elizabeth," Duke Lorn said matter-of-factly, picking up his pen once more, "this is what happens when you spend all day with your nose in those books, filling it with nonsensical notions. Marriage is an agreement," he said, glancing down at the papers before him. "Love will come in time, if not now."

Jon looked to Elizabeth, his expression showing signs of apology, "But, Father," Jon turned to look at him, "does that mean she won't be accompanying me? I promise to keep her by my side at all times."

Their father paused and glanced to them once more, "Now, Jon, don't encourage your sister's fantasies. You may go alone. She needs time by herself to set her priorities straight. If that is all, you may leave me to continue my work," he said, ending their conversation.

It was with a defeated sigh that Elizabeth walked out and up to her bedroom to sit on her window seat. She knew she had little choice in her life when it concerned her father and the decisions he made. She would often try to convince herself that her father only acted the way he did out of love for her. Sometimes it was hard to believe, but she knew he did. She tried to distract her thoughts by humming as she opened her book, but soon closed it with a shake of her head.

"How can love be 'a fantasy'? 'A foolish notion of a child'? I do not ask for a knight or a love to call up to my balcony, I just want a man to love me. Simple and ardent love," she said to herself as she placed her head in her palms.

"Elizabeth," there came a knocking at her door before her father pushed it open, "I have good news," he smiled, stepping in. "I have arranged for you to meet him. I have come to realise why you have been acting so incorrigible to this news," he explained. "It is because of all the anxiety from waiting." He stood before her, looking rather proud, "Well, the wait shall soon be over, and you shall meet him later this evening. I have just received word that he and his mother are arriving for a visit." The look of her face was a cocktail of disappointment and nervousness. When she needed reassurance and comfort, she instead got pushed along like a stubborn child too shy to make a new friend.

Nodding, she looked up at him with eyes of ice, too tired to argue anymore, "That… sounds lovely," she said, giving him a small smile before standing. It was a strange feeling, to feel loved and pushed aside at the same time. It was all for the best, she told herself. Her father would not do this if he did not think it was for her own good, she reasoned.

"I'll leave you alone to prepare," her father said, moving towards the door. "It should be a few hours before they arrive," he smiled at her as he paused at the door, then left.

┼†‡

As night approached, there was a knock at Elizabeth's door, this time from her maid, "Lady Elizabeth, your father requests your presence. Your guest has arrived and is waiting for you downstairs," she beamed.

Elizabeth nodded and walked towards her, "Thank you, Clara." Dressed in a blue evening gown with a white sash around her waist, Elizabeth followed her maid out and walked down the stairs with rapid breath. Words could not describe how nervous she was. When other girls would feel anxious to impress their suitor, Elizabeth felt that a slow drum should follow her like she was about to meet her maker. Standing at her father's side, she looked at the back of her guest and gave her father one last pleading look. "Father… can we not discuss this?" she asked in a whisper.

"What more is there to discuss, Elizabeth dear?" her father said to her gently, smiling at her. "He is already here and is eager to meet you." He cupped her hand within his much larger ones and looked at her tenderly, "I only wish to have my daughter well taken care of, to have a life where she deserves to be pampered. You may not know him now, but in time grow to love him. Happiness will come later in life, just as it did with me," he assured her. "Now, don't let him wait any longer," he urged her towards him, "go to him."

Blushing a bit, she smiled at her father. He knew this man was good and had her best interests at heart, though learning her father grew to love her mother gave her little comfort in her feelings of resentment and apprehension. Nodding, she took a breath and began to walk to the man as the edges of her vision began to blur. As she placed her hand on his shoulder, her eyes opened once again to a pitch dark room.

Looking around with a brief moment of confusion, she turned to see her sire by her side and shook her head with a heartbroken lurch in her chest. It had all felt so real; she had gotten her life back. But alas, it was only a dream.

┼†‡

Spike had awoken before Elizabeth that evening, but was already causing a raucous as he banged open and shut the door, then continued on as he dragged the body of a man into their living quarters. With his hands still hooked underneath the arms, Spike paused as he thought where to stuff it.

Elizabeth peered at him from the bed as she sat up and shook her head, "Who is this? You don't usually bring them back." Glancing at the body, she tried to hide her previous look of heartache as she got up from bed and walked to the wardrobe.

"Well," Spike let the body drop with a thud, "I had to get meself a new pair of boots and coat, seeing as they were ruined last night," he replied simply. "Can't be going around town bootless, can I? You can't imagine how long I loitered in the lobby, just checking to see when someone who had the right size would come by. But luckily," he grabbed the body and hoisted it into a sitting position, and smacked it on the back, "he happened to come my way. Wouldn't say it was lucky for him, though," Spike let the body drop once more and laughed. "It's a good fit, I must say," he looked down at the new pair of boots he was brandishing. "The coat, however, is a tad bit itchy," Spike shrugged as he adjusted the fourth coat he had changed to since their meeting.

Elizabeth looked down at the man with a look of pity as her lips moved in a prayer that was below a whisper. Looking back at her sire, she flicked her gaze over the boots and coat, "Powder," she said. "Clara would use powder to soothe skin if I wore wool. It serves well until you get used to the coat," she added before walking off to change for the night.

"'Powder'?" Spike repeated, dragging the body to a far corner where it was hidden from view. He wasn't aware of how clothes were laundered as his mother was the one who handled with the cleaning and his starched shirts. He supposed it probably rang some truth to it if a woman suggested it. Spike returned after setting the body aside, "And who the bloody hell is 'Clara'?" he asked.

Walking out in a casual dress, Elizabeth pulled her hair back in its usual style, "Clara was my governess, later maid when I got a little older," she replied in a tone that one would speak of addressing a friend rather than a servant. Opening the curtains, she looked out the window and wondered what to do for the night.

"Oh," Spike replied, not really caring, "well, enough with this walking down memory lane. I plan to live in the present. Got meself a big ol' ugly that isn't going to beat itself." He opened the door as he looked at Elizabeth, "Coming?"

"Coming," she said, walking out with him. Perhaps he was right. The past would just break her heart more than it already had, but she just could not bring herself to let go.

┼†‡

It was pleasant strolling out in the brisk evening air, being surprised with every turn with the unfamiliar landscape. Elizabeth looked around at her surroundings, finding it more peaceful than other places they had been to thus far. She liked moments like this- little conversation and a tranquil walk. With a man like her sire as her travelling companion, moments like these were much appreciated. She took in the city sights with curiosity and delight until a brothel entered her range of vision.

"You sure you don't want to watch this time?" Spike laughed, skipping ahead of her. It was the same question that wormed its way into one of Elizabeth's dream that she would rather forget.

She turned to look at him, only to quickly avert her eyes as she began to walk in a different direction, "I-I will meet you back at the hotel," she said, hoping to find a better pastime.

"Suit yourself," Spike called out to her. It was a response he had expected, feeling a little disappointed she did not partake in the same forms of entertainment as he. If Drusilla were there, she'd probably be the one to instigate it, he thought. Nevertheless, without Elizabeth there to cast her gaze of judgement, allowed Spike free reign as he leapt into the awaiting arms of the German women.

┼†‡

As her dreams haunted her, Elizabeth's steps grew faster. She could still see them, his eyes locked to hers, that smirk, daring and inviting like the serpent coiling on the fabled tree. She shook that image from her mind as her walking led her to a quaint little bookstore. Perusing the volumes that lined the walls, she ended up plucking a few books from the shelves and carried them to the plump older woman behind the counter.

"Three? My, my, I have not seen a young girl who liked to read this much in quite some time."

"I really do love to read," Elizabeth replied happily as she paid.

The old woman gave her a motherly smile, "Books are wonderful things. Where good can be a constant, those who read can travel in an instant."

Elizabeth thanked her as she left, and found herself a good supper before returning to the hotel. She pulled out one of books she had purchased. It was something she had read many times before and never grew tired of; it was about a story of love and tragedy, something that had captivated her as a girl. Taking her sire's cane in her hand, Elizabeth held it like a sword- or how she thought one would be held any way- and took a stance.

Holding up her chin defiantly, she spoke:

" _Now, Tybalt, take the "villain" back again,_  
_That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul_  
 _Is but a little way above our heads,_  
 _Staying for thine to keep him company:_  
 _Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him._ "

She moved as if she was fighting the imaginary character, but in reality, it looked more like she was dancing.

┼†‡

The visit at the brothel was a short one, as Spike made a quick meal out of one of the girls. Soon after, he took to the riverbanks once more. This time, he watched from afar, learning his lesson not to engage with the mud demon and just observed. Although being still and passive were not to his taste, he did manage to learn some things that evening.

Content with how the rest of the events unfolded that night, Spike returned to his hotel room to the sound of Elizabeth speaking to herself. He opened the door and watched silently from a distance as she wielded his cane like a sword and fought some invisible foe. Quick to the punch, Spike stood behind her and spun her around to face him.

" _Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here / Shalt with him hence._ " He smirked down at her, hoping to take her by surprise in her private play.

Elizabeth's heroic facade melted into a look of embarrassment as she stared up at him with wide eyes and cane in hand. She could not hide the surprise in her eyes as she took a step back and bit her lip in nervous habit, readying herself for ridicule.

Spike raised an expectant brow at her, "Oh, c'mon now, _Romeo_ , say your line and fight your Tybalt," he gestured to himself, raising his brows as he smiled. He glanced to the fireplace, walked over to pick up the fire poker, and resumed his spot across from her. "Go on," Spike gestured, getting all ready for the duelling sword fight.

Elizabeth looked up in surprise and cautiously picked up her 'sword' again. Glancing at the cane and back at him, her retook her stance from before as her defiant look returned to her face, " _This shall determine that._ " At her last word, her eyes flicked from the cane back up to her sire as she lunged towards him.

Lifting up his own version of his blade, Spike readied himself as Elizabeth made the first attack. He made contact with the cane with the poker and whacked it aside. Changing positions, he continued to taunt Elizabeth as they exchanged small blows with each other. 'Romeo' fought bravely, all the while fighting back a smile of enjoyment as she tried to stay in character. After a short amount of time had passed with their swordplay, Spike decided it would be his final blow. Catching the end of the cane in midair on her next lunge, he pulled her down to the floor with him as he kept her above. Elizabeth yelped in surprise.

As Spike lay on the floor, he positioned the cane directly above his heart, "Considering that it's wood," he glanced down at the cane in question, "you really could deliver the final blow if you wished," he flicked his eyes up at Elizabeth, then smiled as he taunted her, almost as though he dared her to do it.

Elizabeth trembled a bit with wide eyes as she looked down at him. The look in his eyes was the same from that night in Paris, that night in front of the brothel, and now this very moment, as if it were a momentary theme. Loosening her grip, the cane fell from her hand as she shook her head and scrambled off of him.

"Oh, you've killed me! You've killed me, Romeo! Blaughh!" Spike yelled loudly from the floor as he continued to hold the cane over his chest. He pretended to writhe in pain, gurgled, then lay still to emulate his final rest. Sitting on the floor a short distance away, Elizabeth started to laugh as she watched her foe die at her hand. Spike turned his head towards her after a brief pause and laughed, "So is this what you do in private?" He sat up and cast the cane to his side, "Reenact Shakespearean plays in your bedroom?"

Elizabeth gave a shy nod, "Sometimes. I would take on characters and perform their parts as if on stage. After all, 'all the world's a stage'," she said. "It helped to pass the time. To be well read is to be sane, I thought. To no longer be in my bedroom but be somewhere else…."

Her words, although not entirely true to his circumstance, resonated with him. Spike didn't put on plays, but he did recite poetry to his only audience member- his mother. He gave a silent nod in agreement, an act, if it were any indication, that like her, he was a lonely child growing up. Elizabeth gave him a rather tender look as if she understood it. "You realise you're no longer cooped up in your bedroom anymore. You literally have the world as your stage," Spike pointed out.

"Are you saying you would act with me?" she asked with a soft chuckle, almost too embarrassed to even give it thought let alone ask him. Inside the growing vampire, there was still a lonely girl. She began to unconsciously bite the corner of her lower lip again.

Spike scoffed, "I was merely using that as a metaphor for life, I'm not mad," he said, giving her a dubious look. Elizabeth laughed, knowing full well this was a once in a forever lifetime performance, but it was fun when it had happened. "Besides, that's your passion, not mine. I'd rather-" Spike stopped himself before revealing something too personal, "I'd… rather not do that," he recovered. He sighed, "Look, if that is something you really wish to do, what is it that is stopping you now? You're not restricted to the conventional seven stages of life, according to Will, so seize the bloody opportunity and just _do_ it."

"Perhaps I will," she said, nodding as she looked at him. "So, how was your night? Still in one piece, it seems."

"I've learned to keep my distance when needed," Spike replied. "Only got a bit of mud on these boots," glancing down at his shoes, he turned them to show that indeed, the mud line barely reached over the sides of the soles. "You know, that nasty little bugger seems to be guarding something," Spike peered back up at Elizabeth. "I don't know who or what is controlling it yet, but when I do, they'll be sorry they ever let that thing put a speck of dirt on me," he said, sounding very determined.

Elizabeth giggled and got up to get ready for bed. Once her hair was braided and she had on her nightgown, she sat on her side of the mattress as she put on her gloves. Then, she reached into the bedside table for her bible for a little reading before sleep, something that had now become ritual for her.

Spike rolled his eyes as he pushed himself off the floor and began to remove his coat and shoes, "In due time, Spike," he muttered to himself. He stepped into the bathroom to get cleaned up, hoping that by the time he emerged, she would have put that book away.

 


	16. Day 17: The Night was wide and furnished scant

Being preoccupied was a welcome distraction from the loneliness that Spike felt, allowing him to sleep with a little more ease of mind. Languidly waking that evening, he found himself with a messy braid of hair in his face and realised what position he had inadvertently put himself in again. He carefully peeled his left arm away from Elizabeth's still form and proceeded to back out of the bed, hoping that she wouldn't wake up to find him snuggling against her.

Elizabeth rolled onto her back with a light sigh as she began to stir, just as Spike had managed to slip out of bed. He quickly walked to the wardrobe as though he had every intention of doing that as she opened her eyes. Sitting up, Elizabeth unravelled her braid and ran a hand through her hair before joining him.

"What should we do tonight?" she asked as she pulled her hair over to one shoulder. Spike breathed a low sigh of relief when she hadn't noticed.

"I'm meeting a friend actually," he replied, pulling on his trousers. Elizabeth tilted her head as she picked out a dress and wondered who he could know in Germany. Spike turned around as he snapped his suspenders over his shoulders, "Hmm, you speak German. Hmm," he paused as he thought about this predicament. "Would you like to join us?" he asked.

"I… would like to," Elizabeth replied, the curiosity just eating her up as she wondered who this friend could be.

"Good," Spike gave a nod as he went to fetch his coat. Having Elizabeth there would be for his own advantage, as he had no idea what his friend said to him; she would act as his personal translator. In addition, he would greatly benefit from having a native give him possible answers to some of the strange occurrences happening within the city.

┼†‡

Leaving the hotel with Elizabeth in tow, Spike led them to an unassuming street and a typical German pub. Spike spotted his friend drinking in his usual spot at the corner of the bar; he waved at him from across the room. Elizabeth watched this strange exchange, wondering why her sire had brought her there and why he would have a human friend. It was so unlike him, she thought. She followed him as he pushed through towards the man.

The German set down his mug when he spotted Spike and stood from his seat, " _Mein Freund!"_ he laughed. He had short clipped dog blonde hair with longer waves atop his head and a well-groomed moustache. It was a stark contrast with his thin brows that framed his beady blue-grey eyes, as they almost seemed to disappear into the colour of his pink skin. His ears stuck out a bit, but he was set with a strong and firm jaw that defined his square face. He greeted Spike with a hardy handshake as soon as he approached, " _Guten Abend. Wie geht es dir?"_ the man said, despite Spike not knowing German. Standing, he was a couple inches or so shorter than the Englishman, but he had a stocky build, and arms that were strong from a labour intensive job. He wore a brown tweed coat over a simple shirt and trousers, and a necktie made from white linen that was tied into a couple of knots at his neck.

"Nice to see you again as well, Georgie boy," Spike replied, smiling in return. He glanced over at Elizabeth, "I brought someone along." His friend followed his gaze and looked to Elizabeth; his expression softened to surprise.

"A beautiful woman," he glanced to Spike and smiled. Looking back to Elizabeth, he shook her hand more gently, "Is she the one you've been crying over all this time? Drusilla?" he said in German.

At mention of Drusilla's name, Spike hastened to reply as he laughed and waved it off, "Ah, no mate, that's not Drusilla," he cleared his throat, "this is Elizabeth."

Elizabeth blushed, "Thank you, sir. And no, I am his… friend," she said in his native tongue, unsure of what to call herself having never given it much thought before. Sitting down, she held a nice pleasant smile on her face

"Ah, you speak German!" Johann's eyes widened in surprise. " _Entschuldigen Sie bitte meine Fehler,"_ he turned and apologised to Spike for his misunderstanding. "Please, you may call me Johann," he said, looking back to Elizabeth as he formally introduced himself. "I apologise for mistaking you for Drusilla."

At mention of her name again, Spike's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He flitted his gaze back and forth between them as they conversed.

"And you are?" Johann asked.

"It is quite all right, my friend. I am, as he said, Elizabeth. It is a pleasure to meet you," she said kindly.

"Ah, Elisabet," he said, ending her name in a soft T, "I wasn't sure about it; I didn't want to mistake you again," he laughed.

"He brought me here to translate. I'm afraid he doesn't speak German at all," Elizabeth said with a little laugh.

Johann assumed his seat once more, "Right you are. He hasn't a clue what I say. It's funny but liberating all at the same time. Isn't it, _Mein Freund?_ " he laughed and smacked Spike on the back.

Spike hadn't a single clue what the two were saying, "All right, what's he been going on about for the past hour?" he turned to Elizabeth, starting to regret taking her out to meet him.

"Nothing really. Just introductions. Pleasantries, that is all," she said with a light laugh and a smile.

"All right," Spike said carefully, unable to confirm that what she said was true.

"If I had known we were going to have a bigger party, I'd have thought more than to just drink beer," Johann said. "What say I show you a place where we can get food in our bellies?" he smiled as he patted his stomach, indicating that he was either hungry or intended to eat.

"Food?" Spike inquired. "Sure, I could go for that," he nodded.

"Yes, yes? We are all in agreement, then?" Johann looked to the two of them, then smiled, "Come, I know of a place with the best meats and sausages," he stood as he placed his hat on his head, then took the lead out the door.

Elizabeth nodded, "Wonderful," she stood to straighten her dress and followed him out.

┼†‡

When they stepped in the eatery, they were promptly seated. Johann waved as someone came over to take their orders and rattled off a few things off the menu from the top of his head. After a couple of minutes, a couple of mugs of beer were set before the two men and cider for Elizabeth.

"So, what's your story, Elisabet?" Johann inquired, turning to her as he sipped. "I know you wouldn't stay with him for all the sobbing he's doing over another woman. You'd tell me if he's holding you captive, now is he?" he gave her a playful wink and smiled, being careful not to tip Spike off at mention of Drusilla's name. Spike sipped his beer and watched them over the brim of his mug as he waited for Elizabeth to translate.

Elizabeth sipped her cider with a pleasant face at the warmth of the drink. Looking to Johann, she giggled a bit and glanced down, "I would, sir, without delay. He is impossible at times, but he is loyal and the only friend I have," she said.

"Johann, call me Johann," he reminded Elizabeth, waving off formalities altogether. "There is something impossibly charming about him, isn't there? Despite his strange quirks," Johann chuckled.

Elizabeth turned to her expectant sire, "He was asking me about how we came to travel together."

"Oy, Georgie," Spike said to him, despite the name discrepancy, "if you wanna know how we came to travel together, I was the one that saved her," Spike pointed out. "That's right, I'm the hero of the story. I'm not afraid to admit that," he sniffed, claiming his bragging rights.

Elizabeth looked at her sire with a quirked brow before turning to their friend, "Oh, yes, that is what happened. My _hero!_ As you can clearly tell, I am a damsel," she said with a laugh as she dramatically placed the back of her hand to her forehead.

"You know it to be true," Spike said to her. "I took you under my wing, clothed and fed you, and made sure you had a bed to sleep in. Stop me if I'm wrong," he challenged her.

Just then, their food arrived. Before them was a platter of sausages, some made from pork, and some from beef. There were also some cured pork cutlets with sides of mashed potatoes, sauerkraut, and yellow mustard, along with some herbed green sauce.

"You may need to hold your tongues momentarily, for the feast has arrived!" Johann proclaimed, helping himself to some sausages and pork. Spike got distracted in that moment from the smell of the food, and decided to help himself to some sausage and sauerkraut.

Elizabeth remembered her father raving about the food as she tried it herself. "This is delicious. Very good recommendation," she said to Johann.

"What the bloody hell did I just put in my mouth?" Spike grimaced, spitting the sauerkraut out. "Has this gone bad?"

Elizabeth giggled at her sire's reaction, "An acquired taste, I'd imagine."

"Eat it with some meat or sausage," Johann instructed, demonstrating like so, "it cuts the richness of the meat," he smiled.

Spike wrinkled his nose, but hesitantly tried it once more with the given advice. He chewed slowly, letting the two flavours commingled in his mouth, then nodded, finding it acceptable, "Mm, better," he noted.

Johann chuckled at him, then took a sip of beer, "You two seem like a very unlikely pair." Elizabeth nodded a bit and glanced at her sire out the corner of her eye as she sipped her cider. Spike glanced over at Elizabeth, then back at Johann.

"Well," a sly smile slowly broke out across Spike's face; he set down his mug, "it might be because we're…," he glanced at Elizabeth, "English." He sniggered a bit, "You could say it's 'in the blood'." Spike was too amused at his own inside jokes.

"Very true, _hero_ ," Elizabeth said with a slight laugh in her voice.

"Forgive me for saying this, but I always had the impression the English were, well, uptight," Johann began. "But you've got quite the mouth on you," he chuckled at Spike. "Elisabet, you are the exception; you're as sweet as they come, from any part of the world," he smiled at her.

Elizabeth gave the German man a kind smile, "Why, thank you, Johann. That is very kind of you to say."

"I may have a chatty mouth, but it's been known to be put to better use," Spike said absently, taking a sip of his beer.

Johann let out a loud laugh and wagged his finger at Spike, "We have a lady in our presence!"

Elizabeth gave both men a puzzled look, "Your understanding is lost on me," she said as she shook her head. Johann continued to chuckled.

Spike peered at them before resuming his eating, "I meant the blood bit," he mumbled more quietly. "Don't bother translating that," Spike said to Elizabeth, thinking that entire exchange probably went over her innocent head.

Sipping her cider, Elizabeth whispered back, "Wouldn't dream of it. I'm not a complete idiot."

Spike cleared his throat, "So, Georgie, tell us a bit about this city. Any strange things happen lately?"

Johann looked to Spike quizzically, "What do you mean by 'strange'? We had a bit of a dry spell this past year, but the crops didn't suffer too badly."

"Oh, no, not that," Spike replied, sighing a bit. "Sorry for the loss, though, mate. But no, I mean… more of the… unusual type. Say… monsters? Deaths? Curses? Of that variety," Spike drummed his fingers on the tabletop and looked to him expectantly.

Johann looked to Elizabeth as she was the voice that gave his words meaning; there was a look of incredulity on his face, "Surely he must be joking."

She shook her head, "He is not. He is a writer, you see. He has always found the supernatural fascinating and follows stories to see if they are really what they are said to be. Much like those who go to seances. It would be best to answer honestly," she advised.

Johann chewed his food and nodded, "That explains a lot, actually. His mood swings and… all," he waved his fork about in explanation with the other things he couldn't describe.

Spike gave Elizabeth a look and mouthed the words, 'a writer?' He supposed that was probably the best solution as to why he was sleuthing around for information, but now his friend thought he was some neurotic eccentric.

"Hmm," Johann paused in thought, looking up as he rubbed at his chin, "there are some stories that have been said are nothing more than folktales. I believed them growing up as a boy, but not so much now."

Spike leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, getting a bit more interested, "Are there any about the river?"

"The Main River? Funny you should say that," Johann chewed a bit of his food, "there are townsfolk that regularly go on hunts for a witch that supposedly lives on the outskirts of the forest close to the river. They blame her for the bad weather, bad yield of crops, a naughty child," he laughed. "You see the absurdity of it," he sipped his beer.

Spike's eyes lit up at this development, "A witch, eh? So, would she by chance control these things made entirely by mud?"

"A _Schlamm Dämon_? You know of them? I've heard she creates these creatures to guard her home from interlopers."

"Aha!" Spike slammed his hand down on the tabletop triumphantly. "I knew it! Didn't I tell you, Elizabeth?" Spike turned to her excitedly.

Elizabeth laughed and nodded, not out of amusement for a crazed companion, but more for a shared excitement. It reminded her of detective stories she used to read. These adventures were beginning to prove as exciting as he had promised. "Where would her home be?" she asked with another sip of cider.

"You two are quite serious about learning these tall tales, aren't you?" Johann inquired, "It's said that her home is a cabin by the edge of the forest, just within a walk from the river. However, I can assure you, I'm very familiar with the woods, and I've never come across any cabin- and neither have these townsfolk bent on these witch hunts."

Spike peered at Elizabeth curiously and leaned in closer towards her, "I bet she's hiding out there. Has some sort of invisibility cloaked up," he said with a lowered voice. "You're familiar with the woods, you say, Georgie boy?" Spike said suddenly, turning to Johann.

Johann looked to Spike as he pulled a draught of his beer, then set his mug down, "Please don't tell me you plan on heading there tonight, _Mein Englisch Freund_."

Spike gave a chuckle and turned to glance at Elizabeth, "How 'bout it?" he raised his eyebrows, then looked to Johann. Elizabeth sighed wondering how dangerous this little adventure would be and how it could possibly bring her sire closer to his resolve.

"He is, and he asked you to come with us," she interpreted to Johann, trying to sound as pleasant as possible.

Johann laughed, "You may not look it, but has anyone ever told you you're a little crazy?"

Spike joined in his laughter, "At times, mad as a hatter, mate."

"All right, I wouldn't normally do this, but I'll join you on your wild goose chase," Johann nodded in agreement.

"Eh, Georgie!" Spike hollered, raising his mug for him to toast. Johann in turn clanked his against Spike's. "Here, here!" Spike continued, raising it once more and clashing it against Elizabeth's, then proceeded to gulp down the rest of his beer.

Johann laughed, "I can't imagine how he manages to drink so much without passing out. He can drink me under the table," he commented to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth laughed, "I suppose he has a high tolerance," she said as she looked at her sire.

"I have to wonder though, this 'Georgie' he's always referring me to, what does he mean by it?"

"To be honest, Johann, I do not know either," she said as she turned to her sire. "Why do you call him 'Georgie' if you know his name?" she asked with a quizzical look.

Spike set his empty vessel down as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "We've never known each other's names," he replied simply. "But just look at him. He looks like a George," he gave a chuckle and nod at Johann.

Elizabeth laughed and nodded as she translated this to the German man.

Johann gave a surprised laugh and looked to Spike, "Fair enough. True, till now, I've only referred to him as 'My English Friend'," he laughed. "Tell him he looks like…," he looked over Spike carefully, "a 'William'."

Elizabeth laughed and clapped her hands a bit before turning to her sire, "He told me you look like a 'William'."

"Eh, you told him my name, didn't you?" Spike squinted his eyes at her suspiciously.

"Not at all. He is very perceptive, I suppose," she said with a little smile. "You would know If I did."

"Oh, so did I get his name right?" Johann laughed. "William, My English Friend!" he laughed, giving Spike a shake and a slap on the back. "I finally have a name to put to that handsome face, eh?"

"Well, whatever your name is, you'll always be 'Georgie' to me," Spike replied nonchalantly. Johann just laughed at his reply.

┼†‡

When they had finished their meal, Johann guided them to the edge of the woods, close enough to the river to hear running water.

"This feels a little more thrilling having a few beers in you," Johann commented, holding a lantern in his hand. Elizabeth walked next to him as she looked around her with slightly fearful eyes. At the same time, she also found it to be very exciting and adventurous.

Spike trailed a few steps behind them, "Stick with me long enough, Georgie boy, and you'll be havin' thrills every night," he replied, brushing some branches from his line of path.

Johann laughed and just shook his head, "Even though we won't find anything, the air here," he inhaled deeply, "does you good."

Being raised a cultured and refined city boy, the woods were a little foreign to Spike, "I suppose it has its appeal," he shrugged, brushing a twig off that had caught in his hair.

"It is so beautiful out here. Kind of peaceful rather than frightening," Elizabeth said with a little giggle. "I used to be so afraid of the dark," she lifted her dress a bit so that she could walk with more ease.

"There's an unexplainable tranquility in the darkness, especially when you're surrounded by the German wilderness," Johann smiled at her. "I can see that you take a liking to these sorts of things, Elisabet. You should consider moving here," he laughed, teasing her.

"Germany is a lovely country. Perhaps one day I will," she said with a smile.

Spike shuffled behind them with his head bowed as he watched his footing.

Suddenly, he paused. He lifted his head, "Someone's coming."

Johann glanced behind him and laughed, "You can tell, in these parts of the woods?" he continued onward as they made it out to a patch of clearing. Within a minute, Spike's warning had proven true, as the sound of several feet could be heard approaching them. Spike smiled as he waited for whatever that was coming to reveal themselves.

"I heard a noise," a distant German voice said. A group of four men and one woman soon emerged from the woods. They were carrying lanterns and burlap sacks.

"Oh, just humans," Spike sighed in disappointment.

"Good evening," Johann called to them.

"Is that… Johann? What are you doing out here? Have you finally come around to your senses and seen the truth?" one of the men asked, coming closer as he lifted his light.

"No, I am not joining you on your mad witch hunt," Johann assured them. "I'm just showing a couple of friends where the legend began."

"It is not a legend! My son is ill!" the woman cried in her defense.

"We plan to find her tonight and burn her alive!" another man wailed, causing the others to cheer in agreement.

Spike merely watched from a short distance away as he remained unamused by what was unfolding in front of him, "The workings of the human mind at its best," he sighed quietly to himself.

Standing next to her sire, Elizabeth answered, "And you in your life, you never believed old wives' tales? Ghost stories to frighten naughty children?" she asked as she watched them. She had faith in a lot of things, but to have the desperation of a mother- tracking down something that may or may not exist to save her son- must have been great, she thought.

"It's one thing to believe an old wives' tale to keep a naughty child at bay, but to act on it in droves? That's how wars are started. I had enough wit to tell reason from desperation at least," Spike replied, watching the disgruntled people engage with Johann. "It only takes the mind of one idiot to infect the town of 'em; stupidity breeds fear, fear breeds stupidity- you can't tell where one begins and one ends."

"Come, Johann, join us in this hunt. We need more eyes and hands," one of the men offered.

"I will not get involved in this nonsense," Johann shook his head. "I am sorry for your son, but it cannot be the work of some imaginary creature," he tried to reason.

"How dare you!" the mother cried, clutching at her chest. "When the day comes when it is your own child that falls ill, don't come to me for sympathy!" she spat in the dirt.

"Let us leave and carry on," the leader of the group said. The woman pushed past Johann as she followed her group.

Johann sighed and shook his head, "They're so determined when all they are doing is chasing shadows."

Elizabeth walked to her new friend and put a hand on his shoulder, "They are desperate. Desperation makes people do and believe crazy things. Pay them no mind," she said.

"Sadly, that is true," Johann nodded in agreement. Johann continued to lead them as they foraged through the path where the group had previously passed. When they had walked the length of it, they came out the end where the river met the forest. "I'm afraid that ends our little adventure," Johann laughed.

Spike ambled out after them, flicking something else that had caught in his hair, "There has to be more to it than that," he said, determined to find something that night. He looked at his surroundings, "Wait a minute," he took some steps away from them and looked along the riverbank, "It's nearby," he said, turning around to face Elizabeth. "I was attacked by that mud demon not far from here. If that's the case, that ol' witch's cabin must be around here somewhere!" he said excitedly, a youthful and boyish smile on his face. "C'mon, I'll lead the way!" he said, taking off ahead of them.

"What in God's name…," Johann watched as his friend sprang ahead. "William! It's not safe- you need a light!" he yelled, lifting the lantern. "Is he always this reckless?" Johann said to Elizabeth as he tried to keep up.

Shaking her head, she looked at Johann, "Yes, this is him while excited. You should see him when he's angry," she said with a wry smile on her lips.

Spike slowed down to examine his surroundings, "Ah, here!" he turned around to wait for Elizabeth and Johann to catch up. "You can see my footprints over there in the mud!" he pointed. He carefully walked next to his former tracks where they had stopped short- it was the area where he was 'attacked'.

Johann neared and raised the light close, squinting in the darkness, "You were here before, William? What were you doing?"

Spike straightened up and looked around, "Where the bloody hell is that demon now? At a time when I actually need its presence, it fails to appear," he huffed. He cupped his hands around his mouth, "C'mon out you sodding pile of oozing sludge! We've come to threaten the life of your precious mistress, the witch!" Spike yelled out loud in the empty darkness.

"Good lord, he's gone mad," Johann quietly commented as he watched his raving friend.

Elizabeth watched her sire before turning to Johann; she giggled a bit, "He is, but that makes him… interesting."

"So… so bloody come out! And do your worthless job to protect her!" Spike cried. He was met with silence, chirping crickets, and the gentle sound of running water. Spike dropped his arms and sighed, "Bollocks that did." Spike buried his hands deep within his pockets and took to pacing, turning every now and then to peer into the thick of the woods to see if anything happened to appear. Elizabeth also wandered around the area as she kept her eyes peeled.

"Writers, such an eccentric lot," Johann commented, still standing close to the coast of the riverbanks.

Spike stopped suddenly, "Wait, did you hear that?" he raised a finger as he strained his ear. There came a gurgling sound from very close by.

"A frog perhaps?" Johann chuckled. He soon stopped when the sound grew louder and realised that there were bubbles forming below from where he stood. Elizabeth gasped as she backed away with fear written on her face. Johann gaped in wonder as the mud at his feet began to move. It pulled together and caused a sucking sound, then something like a muddy fist appeared to grab at his boot. "Dear God…," Johann gasped, "it's true… everything they've said was true…!" he quivered, paralyzed in fear. The hand soon had an arm that attached to it, as a humanoid figure began to pull itself from the depths of the earth. Mud dripped from its body like free-flowing lava as it rose to its full height. It towered over them by several feet, causing Johann to fall back as he gaped up at it in terror. The thing was just as monstrous as Spike had described it.

"Finally showin' that ugly mug of yours again, mate?" Spike smirked.

Watching as her friend lay frozen in his spot, Elizabeth rushed to Johann and pulled him to a safer distance.

"You have the bravery of a soldier, Elisabet," Johann breathed in thanks.

Elizabeth gave a small smile in response. She looked to her sire, hoping he had a plan for what to do with the beast.

"You're uglier than the last time I saw you," Spike taunted, causing the monster to follow him. "Just a drooling, brainless sponge. The offspring of a slug and a swamp. The uptake and refuse that even the earth rejects," he prattled on, moving deeper into the forest. It was clear that as Spike drew closer to the woods, the mud demon grew more agitated. Its footing quickened as it kept up with him, but still, the vampire was faster and nimbler.

Elizabeth tried to help Johann move away before he went back in to help her sire, "Johann!" she cried, about to run after her friend until the beast charged again. Taking shelter behind a tree, she looked on, not knowing how to help.

Johann kept away at a safe distance, but continued to follow his friend in his mad pursuits, "William, be careful!" he yelled, holding the lamp up to see where they were going.

"Watch where it moves," Spike called out to Elizabeth, "the more violent it gets will tell you where the cabin is hidden."

As Spike continued to lure the demon, they approached a clearing they had passed not moments before. Spike ventured in a little deeper this time towards a patch of crossed trees. Throughout this exchange, he had managed to keep the demon away from reaching him as he dodged batches of mud it threw. He was also very careful to avoid getting completely drenched from head to toe, unlike that other night. When Spike had finally crossed the diverging trees, it was as if something had set the demon off. It suddenly started to charge at him without yield as it swung a fist towards his head. Spike tumbled out of the way just in the nick of time and caught himself in a crouched position as he gasped. He watched as the thing pulled its muddy fist from the side of the tree, "Well, that wasn't something I planned," he breathed, his eyes wide.

"William, we must leave!" Johann said as he came up from behind him, trying to help him up.

"Georgie, wait," Spike said, squinting in the dim light. He didn't have much time to look, for the mud demon had spun around and began charging at him once more. "Get outta the way, Georgie!" Spike called out, dodging to the side as the monster slammed its body into the ground where Spike had just gotten up. Its entire body splattered in that moment, sending sloppy waves of mud out within a large perimeter in every direction- some even getting on Spike's coat and trousers.

Spike pushed himself from the ground and looked back to where the remnants of the demon lay, "Not a very efficient guard dog, are you?" he chuckled. He strut back to observe the area, seeing a clear ring where it had dismantled itself by the light of Johann's overturned lantern that lay abandoned on the ground. Spike glanced around in the dim light, "Elizabeth? Georgie?"

"I'm all right!" Elizabeth called out as she came out of hiding. She began to look around for Johann, "Johann? Where are you?" she called out into the dark forest.

There came a muffled groan from where the mud demon had splattered.

Spike braced himself as he stared, "So, not dead yet?"

It was clear that the mud was moving again. An arm poked through first as it clawed its way up and away from the ground; the figure of a man was made evident, albeit smaller than before.

"Georgie?" Spike stared in disbelief. "Aha, Georgie!" he laughed. "Poor bloke got in the middle of the tumble!" Johann crawled a few feet away from where he was buried beneath the mud, then turned around to lie on his back as he panted.

He wiped a thick layer of slop from his face and flung it off his hands, "Good lord, I thought that was the end of me tonight," he gasped.

Their momentary relief was short-lived as the familiar gurgling sound of thick mud and trapped air stirred. The mud began to pull itself together, even gathering from the trail that Johann had made.

"Now that is just disgusting," Spike said, watching as chunks of mud slid off Johann's clothes to form the thing once more. With wide eyes, Elizabeth watched the beast reassemble itself as she grabbed and pulled Johann away. It stood just as tall in its resurrected form. "Up you go, big and slow fella!" Spike called out, quick to step back towards the woods and away from his compromised friend. "Don't like it when I get too close over here, do you?" Spike motioned for Elizabeth as the mud demon turned on its heel and began to charge at him, "Elizabeth, the lantern, pass me the lantern!" he indicated where it lay.

Hearing her sire yelling for her, Elizabeth ran over to grab the lantern and passed it to him as quickly as she could, "Got a plan?" she asked with a frightened tone in her voice.

Spike glanced to her, "Not exactly." Elizabeth retreated back to Johann as they watched her sire, not knowing what she could do to help. Spike managed to just shuttle away on the next onslaught. "Sneaky little bugger, aren't you?" he hissed, crouched over on the moist ground. He lifted the lantern to peer up at where the tree branches touched, trying to make out what he could barely see, all whilst maintaining ample distance from the mud demon and staying smothered free. " _Bloody_ hell! Just stay put for _one_ bloody minute, will you!" Spike growled as he somersaulted from the thing when it lunged towards him. The two had managed to crisscross paths enough that they had now assumed each other's spots- Spike facing the woods, and the Schlamm Dämon guarding it. Spike raised the light, now being able to see things clearer at this angle.

There appeared to be something shimmering and cascading down from where the trees crossed, like the mist from a waterfall. Within a second of this newfound discovery, the demon had ahold of Spike's wrist and began to lift him up.

"Blimey, sodding ingrate!" Spike growled as his feet flailed in the air. He kicked it hard in the chest, only to manage to get his foot stuck, "Oh no, that's not good," he said, glancing down at the distance below him. He looked back up as the demon pulled him closer to its dripping face. There were no discernible features on it, just a slit where the mouth would be, and two glowing yellow eyes behind a curtain of streaming mud. "God, you're ugly," Spike said plainly. At that comment, the demon gurgled, opened wide its slit of a mouth, and bellowed. With his free hand, Spike took hold of the lantern and shoved it down its throat, "Drink's on me, mate!" The demon paused as it brought a hand to its throat, then stumbled backwards as it released its hold on Spike's wrist. Spike fell hard to the ground and lost his boot in the process. Finally, the demon slumped back in front of the patch of trees, groaning as it lifted its face up towards the sky with its mouth agape. Flames suddenly burst out of its mouth and eye sockets, then it was still. Its body remained there as its form started to lose shape and ooze mud; its face was a torch as it continued to burn. "Pray that it doesn't get back up," Spike limped over to look at the thing. Elizabeth cautiously stepped forward as she watched the burning flames.

Heaving a sigh of relief, she nodded, "Most definitely." She looked around them, "Since the monster is subdued, where would the house be?" she wondered out loud. Spike moved towards the trees and watched as the translucent and shimmering veil was made more apparent with the flicker of the flames.

Touching the trunk, he glanced back up towards the branches, "It's beyond these trees," he said with certainty. "These trees, do you see that?" Spike pointed upwards, directing Elizabeth's gaze towards the branches, "It's like a mirage. That's the witch's cloaking spell," he looked to her and smiled. "Now, let's find us a witch!" he hollered happily.

"I… I do not wish to venture any further," Johann said from a distance, still sloughing the mud off his clothes. He cast his gaze down at the ground. He had just witnessed a living demon and believed he would die at its hand. He did not know what else to expect that night, but did not want to risk his life any further.

"Quittin' on us already, Georgie?" Spike called over his shoulder.

Johann glanced up at Spike, his body still trembling from the cold mud and the adrenaline of fear wearing off, "I did not expect this. None of this at all, William. I did not believe in such things before this night, but now that I know they exist…," he trailed off and stared off in the distance. "What if they were right all this time?" he said quietly. "Was it the witch to blame all along?"

"Don't let your mind stray on that path, Georgie," Spike said, not as a threat, but a reminder of the madness that could take over like it had with the townsfolk. "Go back, get yourself a pint, and have a good, long sleep. You'll think it was a bad dream in the morning," Spike said reassuringly.

"Yes…," Johann nodded, his eyes distant, "perhaps this is all just a bad dream. I've nearly lost my mind, but you two," he laughed, "you treat this as though you've encountered this lot before."

Spike looked to Elizabeth, then glanced back at Johann, "It's because I'm a writer," Spike replied, using his fake profession as a reasonable excuse, "and we're English."

Johann gave a shaky laugh and nodded, "Right, right, English… I hope to see you well when this nightmare is over," he mumbled as he trotted off, his head cast down. Elizabeth gave Johann a small smile of reassurance but stayed by her sire's side.

"I hope Georgie boy there doesn't get knocked off his trolley. He was a fun bloke to share a drink with," Spike commented as he watched his broken friend leave. He gave a little sigh, then shrugged as he turned back to the task at hand. "Ready to take the leap?" Spike smirked at Elizabeth, excited as he ever was. Elizabeth was scared, but this night was proving to be quite the adventure, even more exciting than what she was promised. Looking up at her sire, she nodded. Spike turned back to the arched trees, then took a step forward. Elizabeth followed closely behind.

┼†‡

Once past the threshold, the forest around them appeared different; this was a path they had not taken.

"Must have somehow made this entire area look like it didn't exist," Spike reasoned, looking around him. He heard the sound of a windmill clattering in the cool night breeze and followed it past some more trees. They were led to a clearing where a lone and humble cabin stood in the centre, plain for anyone passing by the woods to see- if it had not been hidden by a magic spell. "I feel like we need a trail of breadcrumbs to lead us back in case we get lost," Spike teased, smiling as he approached closer. It was clear that from inside, a crackling fire was lit, if the smoke from the chimney was any indication. Elizabeth walked up to the cabin. It looked like something out of a storybook she had read.

"This is dangerous," she whispered. Of course this is dangerous, she scolded herself. When was anything not dangerous with him? Sadly, that was the exciting part.

Spike stood before the wooden door, unsure of what to do now that they had arrived at the doorstep, "What does one do when they've come uninvited and trespassed on a witch's property? Knock? Or break the door down?" Spike gave a chuckle, "Well, since I already have the momentum going, may as well make a strong entrance." Elizabeth moved aside as Spike took a step back. With his remaining booted foot, Spike kicked the door in.

Taking a peek inside past her sire, Elizabeth was afraid of what they might find.

Spike hobbled in to see a seated figure hunched over by the fireplace. It cast its head up to look at them in shock.

"Witch! We've come for your head!" Spike bellowed and laughed.

The figure, clothed in a grey shift with a black wool shawl over its shoulders, straightened up and faced them. It appeared to be nothing more than an old woman. Her face was aged, weathered and wrinkled; lines were especially etched deep over the area of her mouth. Her hair was a mass of grey, bundled up in a messy knot atop of her head like a stout mop. And though her once blue eyes were fading to a greyish colour that often affected the elder, she held her attention as she peered at them, alert and focused.

"How did you manage to get past my golem and barrier?" she spoke in English with a thick German accent.

Spike took a couple of awkward steps forward, his footing uneven with his missing boot, "That _Schlamm_ demon led us straight to your barrier. Better think about finding something else that has at least half a brain to know that," he smirked.

The witch stood to peer at them, "You two are not of this world."

Spike laughed, placing a hand on his chest as he fluttered his eyelids, "Pardon me, but I am very much in this world. I'm bloody well standing here, solid as can be in your dodgy little dwelling, ain't I?"

"I smell blood on you, from the many that you've killed," she said, her voice strong and resolute as she looked to him. Then, she turned to Elizabeth, "You're young. How unfortunate."

Elizabeth felt a familiar feeling of fear, but an odd attraction, especially when the witch addressed her. Curiously looking at the her, Elizabeth asked innocently, "W-why so unfortunate?" Of course she could not live her life as a young woman could, but other than that curse she was burdened with, what else was so horrible?

"This is not the path you chose in life," the witch replied, letting her gaze fall over the youth's face. "Dare I say…," she peered at Spike curiously, a glint of possible judgement, "a victim?" she flicked her gaze back to Elizabeth.

"Don't be fillin' 'er head with this nonsense, she already reads the bloody bible every day," Spike growled, taking a menacing step towards her.

"Killer, father, brother, lover- you are an unusual one," she looked at him as though she were reading his aura.

"I didn't come here to get my bloody palm read, I came here to take your life," Spike said angrily as he sighed out of frustration. "Although I love hearing the cries of torment, I may have to gag you." The witch murmured something low beneath her breath as Spike advanced towards her, then lifted her palm up, causing the vampire to get thrown back as though a gust of wind had blasted him. Spike gasped as he smacked hard against the wall, then fell forward to the floor.

"Are you as foolish as he, girl? Or are you smart enough to stay idle?" the witch questioned Elizabeth, her arm still outstretched.

Elizabeth looked at her sire, then back at the witch as she wondered what to do. She knew this was wrong, but she wanted to hear more, just like Macbeth did. Looking at the woman with fear and intrigue, she took a few slow steps, "I… will not hurt you," she said as she came closer, a silent request in her eyes that said she wanted to hear more.

"Ah, so you are the smart one of the pair," the witch chuckled lightly, "most women are," she watched as Spike scrambled to pick himself back up. "Take a seat, girl," the witch indicated at the little table to her side where two wooden chairs were tucked in.

"Don't you dare, Elizabeth," Spike hissed. "Taking orders from a bloody witch over your own sire!" Spike was furious.

Elizabeth looked to her sire with fearful eyes. Besides the harsh words from before, she had forgotten that she was technically under his control. Throughout their travels, she felt more like a companion than a subordinate. Even after the ordeal at Notre-Dame, she had never heard him be this angry with her.

Spike glared at the witch, "When this is all over, I'll parade around town with your head on a spike," he laughed, "use it as a torch to light a flame in your mouth like I did your oversized compost baby."

Elizabeth looked back to the table- the chair was just so inviting. There was something about this place, about the witch that just sparked a curiosity in her. It was the same pull she felt in the demon exhibition when she had been drawn to that amber elixir of gluttony.

"I-it is not a order, it is an invitation," she said before pulling out a chair and sitting down.

" _Elizabeth!"_ Spike said in a low and warning tone, unable to take another step forward as an invisible chokehold restrained him from moving. The witch held her hand out like a claw, grasping at nothing but air in front of her, but conducted everything that warranted Spike's ill predicament. As she lifted her arm higher, Spike rose as well. "Blood…y… wit…ch…," he managed to choke out, his fingers prying at the air around his neck. "When this is all over… we will… have words!" he hissed at his progeny.

Elizabeth held out a hand to the witch, "Please, don't hurt him," she said in a stern yet pleading voice, "I know that he threatened you, but please… I don't have anyone else," she said softly for him not to hear. The witch held fast, showing no compromise or compassion to Elizabeth's pleas.

Spike glared at the old woman from his altitude, his feet thrashing slightly as he hung like a Christmas ornament, "Don't you bloody know?" he wheezed, managing a smirk, "vampires… don't need to breathe…," he managed to keep his crass attitude despite her having the upper hand- figuratively as well as literally. Spike was probably dumb enough to taunt her in his current position, but he also needed to buy some time to think of a way out, seeing as Elizabeth was so useless to just watch him hang. As he dangled there like wind chimes in the wind, he heard in the near distance the familiar sound of boots. His grin broadened.

The witch showed no sign of surprise as though it were an obvious observation, "Ah. Then perhaps I should just rip your head off from the column of your spine," she said calmly.

"Nonono!" Spike hissed, a little frantically, "no pulling anyone's heads off!" he wheezed. "C'mon y'bloody Germans…," he gurgled, "be quicker…," he grumbled indiscernibly.

The witch squinted her eyes at him suspiciously, "What are you saying?" she asked, taking a step towards him. Spike just flashed her a toothy grin as he gazed down at her, his eyes going bleary and bloodshot. A brick was suddenly tossed through the window, shattering glass and colliding with the side of the witch's head. As she was struck down, Spike collapsed to the floor just as hard as she had when she lost concentration from her spell.

"Took 'em long enough!" Spike grumbled as he pushed himself off the floor.

"The cabin, we've found it!" German voices cried outside as they continued to toss stones.

Spike went to pull open the door as it hung loose from its broken frame, "Come in- ah!" Spike was assaulted with stones as they continued to hurl them at him. He turned to his side to avoid blows to his body, "Bloody- I'm invitin' you in, you gits!" The townsfolk did not understand him, but only saw him as someone who came from within the witch's cabin.

"Burn him! He is a witch!" they chanted, holding with them flaming torches.

"Idiots! The whole bloody lot of you!" Spike growled. He no longer had patience for them to use them as his frontline. Spike transformed his face and lunged out at them as they looked back in wide-eyed surprise.

At the sound of her sire's inhuman roar, Elizabeth ran out and kept her distance; she clung to the shadows as she prayed for the townsfolk to get out of there.

"It's a demon!" they screamed. They scattered like sheep, but not fast enough. Spike took out the two men in front of him first. Not caring for theatrics this time, he went in with swift and surprisingly merciful kills as he snapped their necks with quick twists. Elizabeth gasped in horror as she watched them fall over like dominoes. As her sire went off to fetch the next man, Elizabeth left her hiding place and ran out to find the other fleeing survivors.

Locating the mother and one of the men, she ushered them to follow her, "Quickly, through this clearing until you fall upon a path. Even then, keep running," she said as she pushed them along, undermining her sire once more.

They looked to her in confusion, "Were you not following that man- nay, that demon before?" the man questioned her.

"She is giving us free passage now, Hans. Let us leave before our lives will be taken next!" the woman cried, pushing past him as she had before with Johann. The man looked to Elizabeth as he turned, then quickened his pace, soon to run after his female companion.

┼†‡

Spike had followed the other man's scent up a tree. He laughed as he clambered up with the stealth of a panther. As he drew closer, the more the man inched away. Ultimately, the panicked man slipped and fell to his own demise. Spike watched as he plummeted down.

"Three down, two to go," Spike said as he peered down at the bloody mess below him. He jumped from the great heights and landed just as nimbly. Trotting back towards the cabin, he sniffed the air and found that the two remaining human scents began to mix with one that was a vampire. "Oh _God_ , Elizabeth, you and your meddling!" he hissed, picking up his pace as he followed the path past the clearing.

┼†‡

Since Elizabeth could see a little better in the dark than they could, she proved her worth by helping them along the dark forest, "Faster now, he should have noticed you are gone. Hurry," she said as she pulled the slower man along while looking behind them. "He's heading this way; run as fast as you can!" she said with urgency in her voice.

┼†‡

It was clear that Spike was gaining on the three as he passed their fresh tracks in the dirt. It was even more apparent with their scents left wafting in the night air, still lingering as though they had just walked by. Spike grinned, using his vampiric abilities to speed ahead. He could already hear the pounding of their feet, the drumming of their panic-stricken hearts pumping that delicious and sticky red he delighted in. He made a detour around the bend into the woods, rounding through the trees to pull back in front of the path. He stood there and waited for them.

"Don't expect you to leave so soon," he said when they came into view, giving them a sinisterly charming smile.

The man who was trying to pull the woman's arm along jolted in his tracks and cried out, "H-how?" he gasped for air.

"N-no! Please, no!" the woman screamed, trying to pull away. She turned, looking behind her, and started to run the opposite way. Spike suddenly appeared in front of the man before he could turn and held him by the throat, chuckling with the utmost glee.

It was with little hesitation that Elizabeth looked at the man before running after the woman instead. It was simply not worth fighting her sire for the man's life when there was a sick child who needed his mother. She soon caught up to her as the woman ran blindly in the dark.

The mother tripped over her feet and scrambled back up with scrapes and bruises. She felt no pain, just the searing burn of cold air filling and leaving her lungs; she could hardly breathe having run for so long, her legs no longer felt a part of her. On her next fall, her feet would no longer cooperate, and she slipped back toward the muddy earth.

"N-no…," she gasped, panic lacing her voice, "I… I will not leave him…," she proclaimed, trying once more to push herself up with her palms.

Elizabeth held her by her arm and pulled her up, "I'll get you to the road, all right?" she assured her as she helped her along. The woman looked to this strange young Samaritan, her eyes wide with some newfound hope. She nodded as she heavily relied on Elizabeth's strength. At that moment, the other men did not matter as much as this mother. Because of the mother's sick boy, it gave Elizabeth more of a reason to want her to survive. They managed to amble along as they continued, trying to keep up speed, but slowed every so often so that the woman could catch her breath. Seeing the edge of the forest in sight, Elizabeth smiled at her, "Come on, there is not much farther." The woman tried to swallow, but her throat was so parched from all the heavy breathing, she started to cough and choke.

"I… I fear… I cannot make it...," she croaked, doubling over in a coughing fit.

┼†‡

Spike had made quick game of the man and discarded him in the middle of the dirt path. He enjoyed working a bit for his meals, but having one of his own trying to keep him from it was something else.

"Elizabeth! You can't keep her from me forever!" he called out, his voice echoing through the trees. He was close, very close.

┼†‡

Elizabeth held the woman up as she patted her on the back, "You can and you will. Think of your son." The woman snapped her head up to look over her shoulder at the sound of the demon; her body racked from her hysterical coughing.

"I-it…," she only managed to muster, looking to Elizabeth fearfully.

Spike could see them within his view, looming up like a long casting shadow as he approached; the distance between them lessened. "There you are," he said almost in song, smiling all the while.

The woman nodded with wide eyes as she stared at the ground, "He's expecting me home… he's waiting for his Mama." Being reminded of her son instilled some vitality in her as she dared to trudge farther, ignoring the demon's presence looming behind her. Elizabeth pulled her along faster as she gave the mother a brave smile, urging her forward as she could hear her sire's voice echo closer.

Spike did not appreciate being ignored or being cast aside like some afterthought. To prove he was not something to be dismissed, he lurched ahead and took ahold of the woman's arm and snapped her out of Elizabeth's grasp. Elizabeth gasped.

Spike forced the woman to look up at him after her shoulder smacked against his chest, "I've made you work hard enough, now you can rest," he laughed.

"Get away from her!" Elizabeth yelled as she took a step forward.

The woman gasped as she peered up at him, "Oh, good, merciful Lord, protect me from this demon," she prayed. Spike snatched at her collar, tearing at the fabric as her chain and crucifix fell out and lay exposed. He growled and immediately pulled away as he neared it, shuffling back to glare at her vehemently. The woman looked to him in shock as her hand fumbled to her cross. Glancing down at it in her palm, she lifted it up towards him and watched as he shifted away. She laughed, a shrill laugh of relief and hysteria, then shuffled backwards, away from the demon and her saviour. "Th-thank you, whoever you are. You shall be in my prayers," she called out, retreating backwards till she was at a safe distance away, then turned to run.

Elizabeth smiled as she watched her leave and whispered, "As you will be in mine."

"Ugh, bloody religious imbeciles!" Spike snarled. Cricking his neck, he transformed back to his human guise and glared at Elizabeth with much disappointment, "I can't even look at you right now!" he said as he walked past her. Not explaining where he was heading, he retreated back into the woods.

It was with a sigh that Elizabeth left to the hotel. Not thinking of the consequences of the events that had just transpired, she busied herself with a hot bath before preparing for bed.

┼†‡

Where Spike had gone was not much of a mystery. Still hellbent on exacting revenge on all that had wronged him that night, it was the witch who had been the first culprit to all of the unfortunate events- starting with her damned mud demon.

Spike banged through the cabin door, "Bloody witch! Hope you've written your will, 'cause now I'm here for your head!" he growled. The witch was seated in her rocking chair by the fire with a bloody rag held up to the side of her head.

"I am grateful, vampire," she said calmly as she stared at the fire, "you have saved my life. I am indebted to you," she turned to look up at him.

Spike looked back in surprise, then started to laugh, "Well, guess my luck's turned around after all," he sniffed. He pondered for a moment if he'd rather take up her offer or just kill her like he had planned. "All right, I'll spare your life then," he nodded, reasoning he could have her do something for him with her magical knowledge. He glanced out the door as he noticed the lightening sky. He didn't have much time for the witch to conjure up any spells and get back to the hotel in time before day break. He would have to make a decision now. "I need you to locate someone for me," he said, turning back to her. "Can you do that?"

"I can," she replied. Spike started to grin, "But," she interrupted his short moment of happiness, "I need you to bring me something of theirs." Spike's face fell. He wanted to know _now!_

"I'll return," he growled. He sprinted out into the night and raced against the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **German Translations**  
>  _Mein Freund! -_ My friend!  
>  _Guten Abend. Wie geht es dir? -_ Good evening. How are you?  
>  _Entschuldigen Sie bitte meine Fehler. -_ I apologise for that.  
>  _Mein Englisch Freund. -_ My English friend.  
>  _Schlamm Dämon -_ Mud demon


	17. Day 18: Witches' Chant PART I

Elizabeth woke up that afternoon to see her sire seated on the sofa with a smorgasbord of brunch items on the coffee table. She approached him with hesitation, considering the ordeal they had had the night before.

"This is quite the spread. Any specific occasion?" she asked with a pleasant smile to her face and a slight laugh to her voice. She took a seat across from him.

Forgetting the grudge he had, Spike peered up at her, "Thought I'd take a bit more to the culture and enjoy a traditional German brunch," he said, taking a sip of his tea. "They're good, save for those preserves," he grimaced at them. "Can't pronounce half the things here. I just asked them to bring up a bit of everything." He cut a small portion of omelette with his fork and brought it to his mouth, "Besides, we'll be leaving soon, so I'm just trying to do as much as I can with our time here," he glanced to her.

Elizabeth began to eat a little bit herself until she looked up at him, "Leaving? We have only been here for a few days. Why are we suddenly leaving now?" she asked as she gave him a curious look.

Spike laughed, "Because," he smiled brightly, "I've found out where they are." He chuckled again and took a sip of his tea, "Well, I mean, I've almost. I most certainly will tonight," he said, pulling the cup away from his lips. Elizabeth's vexed expression faded at the sound of his reason. "As soon as the sun sets, we'll be scurrying off once more, reunited with our little brood," he gave a happy sigh, contemplating the moment he would be running into Drusilla's arms. He peered to the windows, "I suspect it'll be another hour before the sun is well hidden below the horizon. Aren't you excited?" he beamed at her. Elizabeth smiled and nodded. After all, she liked Drusilla and shared a strange little bond with her. With her sire around, there would be little cause to fear Angelus, she thought. "I feel like I need to get her a souvenir," Spike said, suddenly getting up. "Perhaps some jewellery? A necklace? I haven't even thought to look," he said, looking a little disappointed that he hadn't planned things more carefully.

"There is a little jewellery shop a block from here. Perhaps we should leave a little early to make time for you to find something," she suggested. Seeing him so much in love somehow comforted her, since she knew she would most likely never find anyone.

"Yes?" Spike looked to her like a lost boy as his downturned eyes brightened a bit, filling with a glimmer of hope. "Perhaps… you could help me choose something?" he said a little quieter, his fingers fiddling in front of him as he unconsciously fell back into the insecure habits of a human William Pratt.

"Of course," she said with a lighthearted laugh. "Well, I should go pack then," she said, getting up.

Spike looked into his dresser for the things he would need, and slipped the most important objects into his inner coat pocket. Letting Elizabeth pack whatever else she wanted to take, he settled back down to finish his tea as he waited for the sun to set. As soon as the last rays of warmth left the sky, Spike kicked up from his seat and strode to the door.

"Elizabeth! Take me to the jeweller!" Walking out the door past her sire with luggage in hand, Elizabeth let out a lighthearted laugh.

┼†‡

"What does she like?" she asked, once they were there; she looked at the necklaces on display. Spike glanced around. The glass cabinet had a lovely display of different jewellery, from necklaces to bracelets, earrings, brooches, and rings.

"I-I suppose something anything a lady would like," he said, glancing down at the various sizes and shapes of gems and various chains. "Um, something that would match her elegance and beauty. Bold and delicate, all at once."

The shopkeeper approached the counter and greeted them in German, "The gentleman finding something suitable for his lady?" he smiled at Spike, then Elizabeth.

Spike glanced up at him, knowing well what he was assuming from the looks he was giving them, "She ain't my lady," he said nonchalantly, his focus back on searching for Drusilla's gift.

"Just a dear friend, sir. I'm helping him find something for his lady love," she said with a friendly smile.

"My deepest apologies, miss," the man said, bowing his head slightly.

Looking into the case, she spotted a lovely bracelet of silver filigree, "Oh, my… what about this one? "she asked as she pointed to it.

"Ah, that one," the shopkeeper opened the cabinet door and pulled out the velvet lined tray, "you've got quite the eye. This is a recent edition. From the works of the finest craftsmanship, it is made entirely of silver," he set the tray down on the glass counter in front of them.

"Oh, that's lovely," Spike said, quickly being drawn to it. He picked it up without warning as the shopkeeper widened his eyes at him, "It'll look gorgeous on her dainty wrist. Just gleaming against her pale skin," Spike smiled. "I'll take it," Spike said, grinning at the man. "Tell him to wrap it up in a fancy box, and be quick about it. We need to head back to the woods," he set it down before turning around to glance about the shop some more and waited for them to finish up.

Elizabeth smiled at her sire and turned to the shopkeeper, "Wrap it as a gift, please," she asked kindly. Watching the man wrap it in a black box, she took it from him, "Thank you." She walked to her sire and handed it to him.

Spike smiled at the wrapped parcel, feeling like he was getting so much closer to seeing Drusilla's happy and surprised expression when he would present it to her. He placed it deep within his other coat pocket, patting it on the outside to ensure it was safe and snug in place, then gestured for Elizabeth to follow.

┼†‡

They took a carriage to shorten their travelling time and had the driver pull them out all the way into the woods. When the wheels could no longer turn because of the moist earth, Spike got out, thinking they were close enough for a quick and brisk walk.

Elizabeth looked at him, "This is the way to the witch's cabin."

"Right you are, love," Spike replied simply. "Probably expectin' us any minute now," he called over his shoulder at Elizabeth as he approached the diverging trees. All the chaos that had unfurled the night before- the dead bodies and mud demon- bore no trace of even a muddy footprint in the vicinity. "Oh, look, my boot," Spike peered down before the tree trunk to see his lost footwear that had been stuck in the dead demon. It was now swathed in mud on the ground.

"Why would she be expecting us?" she questioned. She glanced at the boot as she was reminded of the mud demon- the most frightening thing she had seen thus far.

"Because she's indebted to me," Spike sniffed with nonchalance and a little swagger in his step. He passed the invisible barrier and trekked across the clearing, seeing the smoke wafting from the chimney from the witch's cabin in the near distance.

Elizabeth sighed as she reluctantly followed, hoping to have little trouble that night. As she peered at the cabin, she hoped the witch would not kill him on the spot for what he did to her the night before.

The windows remained broken, but were boarded from the inside. Standing at the witch's door like the night before, Spike raised his hand this time to knock before a voice called out from inside: "Come in, vampire."

He lowered his hand and pushed open the door instead, seeing that the latch and frame still needed repairing, "Expectin' me?" Spike grinned as he spotted her in a rocking chair by the fireplace with a throw over her lap. All the glass and stones were swept clean from the floor now, only the sore sight of the wooden boards blocking the windows reminded them of the events that had happened. The witch glanced up at him warily, her head bandaged, and her right eye bloodshot.

"You saved me from those humans; I am indebted to you," she replied simply. Her eyes fell to Elizabeth, her stare stony with no expression. Turning her head away, she waited for Spike to come to her, "Do you have a possession of hers?" she asked.

"Yes," Spike said, pulling something out from his inner coat and dropping it into her outstretched palm. The witch looked down at the dainty, pink lace garter and raised her eyes back at Spike.

Slowly pushing herself out of the rocking chair, she beckoned for him to follow her, "Sit," she motioned to the chair across from hers as she walked away to retrieve something by the fireplace before returning with a burning splint. On the table was a small ceramic bowl filled with an assortment of dried herbs and other innocuous items that had rather sharp and distinct odours. Spike seated himself and watched as she placed the garter into the bowl, then the flame down along with it. The delicate article was set ablaze instantaneously.

"Eh! What the bloody hell did you do that for!" Spike cried, watching as the flames consume the garter. The witch muttered something low, then raised her hands over the flame till it burnt out. Spike stared at her, still upset that the only possession he had owned of Drusilla's had been destroyed right in front of his eyes. The witch did not bother to explain her actions as she continued to pull out a large piece of aged parchment over the tabletop.

"Your hand," she beckoned. Spike's eyes widened slightly in surprise as he slowly moved his left hand over the table towards the witch's. She held his hand within her smaller one, ensuring his palm was exposed as she grabbed a handful of the ash from the bowl and smudged it into his palm. Then, without warning, she retrieved a small dagger within her dress and slashed it across his palm.

"OW! _Bloody hell_ , you conniving little witch!" Spike cried as blood started to trickle freely from his wound and onto the parchment. He instinctively pulled away, but the witch held fast, raising his fist up to let the blood drip. "You were always plannin' an ambush, weren't you?" Spike growled angrily. His expression softened to wonder as he watched his spilt blood slowly move on its own accord, etching out lines of a map. Elizabeth stood by with eyes wide in wonder as the ritual took place.

"My lord…," she whispered under her breath.

When it had stopped, the witch let go of Spike's hand and examined the image, "They are there," she pointed at a discernible spot on the map. Spike clasped his injured hand to his chest as he looked to where the marker was indicating.

"Bloody hell, they're in France," he said, not exactly liking the idea since the whole Paris debacle. His brows furrowed together lightly in thought as he unconsciously tilted his head, "Nice…?" He looked up at Elizabeth, "Familiar with the French map? I think it's Nice," Spike said, glancing back down at the bloody outlines. He peered down at his palm, noting the bleeding had slowed, but that he still needed a proper tourniquet. "Oy, you old mage, you have something to stop the bleedin'?" The old woman looked to him disapprovingly but stood to fetch some strips of cloth and handed them to Elizabeth to tend to her sire. Taking the linen, Elizabeth began to wrap her sire's hand. "This better not get bloody infected," Spike said, looking to his palm, having no idea what was used in her spell when she had smudged the ashes on him. He winced slightly as Elizabeth tended to his hand, watching as blood seeped through the first layer of cloth. "Now that you've given us a proper location where she is," Spike began, looking at the witch, "can't you get us there? By some spell of sorts?" The distance from Frankfurt to Nice was far and would take them more than half a day by train; spending so much time outside would be tricky if they were caught out during the daytime.

The witch looked to him as her tolerance was wearing thin, "You think I can make portals? I am not that kind of witch. I cannot just summon someone on a whim and cast them off with a thought. If I knew how, _you_ would not be standing here," she said brusquely.

Spike scoffed, "Could have just said you don't know." Elizabeth finished bandaging his hand with a sigh as she listened to their conversation.

"Perhaps it would be wise not to antagonise her," she chimed in softly to him in a kind yet warning tone.

"I have repaid my debt to you, now you may leave," the witch said, moving towards them to usher them out.

"Eh, since you're so useless, know of anyone who's more capable?" Spike asked as he was shuffled along, not heeding to Elizabeth's advice.

"Just as you have breached my invisibility cloak, you would be more than _capable_ at seeking another who would be _willing_ to help," she said with haste, sarcasm detectable.

"Well aren't you a sunny delight," Spike sniffed as he was shoved out the door.

"If you so happen to step past this door again, I will not hesitate to kill you," she said in German. The witch peered at Elizabeth and smiled, "Maybe then, you might find a companion in me," she laughed, "something to consider." Elizabeth turned to the witch in surprise. It struck her odd how she treated Spike as what he was- a monster- but seemed kind to her, even offering her a seat. The witch slammed the door in their faces, causing Spike to shuffle back a step.

"Rude," he scoffed.

"Well then, off to the train station," Elizabeth said matter-of-factly as she began to walk.

"Bloody witch," Spike said grumpily, strutting in the dark woods as he kicked at random patches of dirt, "probably knows how, but doesn't wanna tell us." He flexed his hand to test the bandages, "May have to have those cloaks handy since we'll be going by train," he sighed.

┼†‡

Arriving at the station about an hour later, Spike went to the ticket booth, "Two tickets to Nice, France," he said. The man at the booth gave him an odd look, only understanding Spike's request to go to France.

" _Ich spreche nur Deutsch,"_ was his response, clearly only monolingual. Spike looked to Elizabeth expectantly.

Elizabeth shook her head and walked up to the counter, "Two tickets to Nice, France, please," she said in German with a smile.

The man at the booth smiled in relief, "I'm sorry, miss, but the next train for Nice isn't for another three days. The last train left later this morning," he explained. "Would you still like to purchase your tickets, though?" he asked.

Elizabeth looked mildly disappointed, "Are there any connecting trains? This is a rather urgent trip," she asked as she looked to her sire then back to the man.

"I'm sorry, that is the quickest route. The following one is just a day apart, but it takes a little longer to reach Nice," he looked to her apologetically.

Spike sighed and drummed his fingers on the edge of the counter, "Lots of words exchanged for just a pair of tickets, here." He did not like where this was heading.

Elizabeth relayed the message to him with with a slightly fearful tone, "Please, don't shoot the messenger," she pleaded. Spike looked to Elizabeth, then to the man.

"You've got to be kiddin' me!" he growled, lunging forward and grabbing the man by the collar as he yelled in his face. "Surely you've mistaken, _mate!_ Check again and tell me there ain't a train comin' tonight, huh!"

The man yelped and spoke rapidly in German, "I'm sorry! There isn't anything more that I can do! All the other trains either arrive at the destination within hours from that one; it is the best time, I swear! Please, please don't hurt me!" he pleaded, shutting his eyes tightly.

Elizabeth took her sire by the shoulders from behind in a gentle yet firm hold, "It is not his fault. There has to be another way there. Let him go," she said calmly. In that moment, Elizabeth was Spike's only voice of reason. All he wanted was to be with Drusilla and he did not care what obstacles were in his way. As the tension from his progeny held him in place, he soon noticed how much attention he was drawing to himself; the people on the platform whispered and pointed, even alerting an official in uniform who may have possibly been a policeman.

Spike shoved the ticker seller back within the safety behind the counter, "Consider this the luckiest night of your life, mate," Spike growled, jabbing a finger in the air at him. Spike strode off the platform before the guard could approach him, and hastily walked as he fumed in silence.

"I'm sorry, this is a very important matter to him," Elizabeth said to the man with an apologetic look before following her sire. Elizabeth sighed and quickly walked beside him as she wracked her brain on how they were going to get to Nice now. "Hmm," she hummed to herself in thought. They could not go to the witch because she would kill Spike should he step foot in her cabin again. _He._ That was a idea. "What if… we go back to the woods. I would talk to the witch alone. She might have at least some advice or information," she suggested.

"I don't give a sodding care what you do," Spike said, feeling very sorry for himself. "Good luck trying to elicit any information from that old hag. She'd scarce share a drop of water with you if you were dying of thirst, unless you happened to save her life from certain death," he paused. "Maybe if some townsfolk were to ambush her again, she'd be indebted to us once more…?" he mused out loud. "But no, where the bloody hell would I find that vindictive mother again…," he sighed. "Never mind that," Spike sighed again as he resumed his pace, once again returning to his glum state, "I'll be at the pub drowning my sorrows."

"I am trying to find us a way there. If you decide to go to the pub, stay there. I shall return."

"I don't intend to leave," Spike commented snidely, not bothering to even glance at her as she left.

Elizabeth strode off towards the woods, not sure why she was doing this for him. But, there was also something about that witch that intrigued her.

┼†‡

Standing in front of the cabin, Elizabeth drew in a deep breath before gently knocking on the door. She waited. The door opened ajar as the witch peered at her; she was not surprised to see Elizabeth at her door. There was a glint in her eye and the tiniest upturn of the corners of her lips, but it was evident that she was smiling.

"So, you've returned, Elizabeth," the witch spoke to her in German. "Are you here to take up my offer?"

Elizabeth smiled back at her nervously and shook her head, "No, I'm afraid. I have some things to ask you. May I come in?" she asked, trying to mask her fear. Here she was consulting a witch for advice, something she was not supposed to do, but the same pull that led her to that sinful bottle was at work, along with the desire to help her sire.

"And… you are alone…?" the witch glanced about the dark woods, wondering if the other hardheaded and obnoxious vampire was with her.

"Yes, of course. I wouldn't want him to cause trouble," she said in all seriousness, but still with a little smile.

The witch's smile broadened and she opened the door for Elizabeth to pass, "As I had promised, if he set foot in here again, I'd use his ashes for potions and spells," she chuckled, not making it clear whether she was being serious or joking. "So, what burning questions do you have within your heart that you had to return to an old witch's cabin?" she asked, ensuring her door was shut properly with a temporary metallic hook. She shuffled in and took a seat at her table and gestured to the empty one for Elizabeth to take.

Elizabeth sat down with a small smile, "Well, the night I met you… you seemed like you wished to talk to me. Like… you knew me somehow," she said. Though she held a nervous look in her eye, she was entirely curious and intrigued.

The witch laughed, her voice raspy and husky, "Perhaps in another life," she replied, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes standing prominent in that brief moment. "Why is that? Do you feel a familiarity with me?" she asked her in return, her eyes just as curious.

"No, it just seemed like you know things about people just by looking at them," she said softly as she looked at the witch.

"Ah yes," the witch smiled lightly, "I may not look it, but I have lived for a long time, much longer than a human life span. It's become habit for me to recognise some signs on one's face. Yours, it's far too young. Even with you being dead, it… differs from the others that I've seen," she said carefully, as she peered at Elizabeth's visage.

Elizabeth tilted her head, "How so?" she asked, leaning in slightly.

"Are you here for a reading, now?" the witch asked her teasingly.

"Oh, no… I've just become very curious…," she said as she looked down with embarrassment. "I came here to ask if there was another way to travel to Nice besides train. This is not a request of you, I simply ask for suggestions," she replied, wanting to separate herself from the likes of her sire.

"You've come to ask on behalf of your companion," the witch stated, her expression turning a little dour. "I advise you not to waste so much of your time and efforts on one who is blinded by the effects of another," she said a little more tersely, a bit of bitterness in her voice. "You may be the brightest flower in his field of weeds, but you're small in his field of vision, and you'll be trampled beneath his boot," she said. Sighing, she sat back in her chair, releasing some of her own tension, "At the same time I'd ask you why you'd go to such lengths to do this favour for him, but I was once young," she glanced up at her, "I almost feel hopeful looking at you; a yearning to experience a vicarious day through your eyes."

Elizabeth looked down, "I died alone… I cannot return to my former life. He saved me from a worse monster, and now he is the only friend I have…," she said softly. "Is there anything else you know? Forgive me, I am so curious," she said as she looked at the old woman.

"I have offered you my companionship, and the offer still stands." The witch peered at her curiously, "But I fear that isn't the kind of companionship you wish to have," she said with a soft sigh. "As I've told him before, I do not know how to open portals or how to teleport individuals, however," she paused, casting her eyes down as she raised her brows lightly, "I am not the one to ask of this."

"Are there any other worlds that could take us there? In Brussels, we went to another world entirely. Surely there must be portals from there…," Elizabeth said softly, determined to aid a man who cared very little for her.

The witch paused and watched Elizabeth carefully before continuing, "Say I know of someone who knows of these 'other worlds' you speak of. I could very well contact them and ask them for a favour…," she glanced to the side, acting coy. The young woman gave a hopeful smile. "If I do this favour for you," the witch looked back to Elizabeth and folded her arms across her chest, "what do I get back in return?" she arched her brow ever so slightly.

Elizabeth cast her eyes down. _I'm making a deal with a witch. Lord, forgive me_ , she thought before looking back at the witch. "I… do not know. I have very little to offer you. I don't have much anymore," she said softly. The witch smiled at her.

Leaning forward, she clutched onto Elizabeth's hands, "All you have is time," she patted her hands. "I'm sure you could afford to spend a sliver of that in the company of a lonely old woman?" she inquired innocently.

Elizabeth looked at the old witch with apprehensive, "H-how much time would you like?" she asked with a slightly fearful but friendly smile.

"However much time I'll need you. If I need you, I'll call for you," the witch replied, her sweet smile never leaving her face.

Elizabeth looked down. She would travel of course, but she did not know if she would always answer to her calls. With a nervous look on her face, she replied, "I d-don't know if I can…. I would leave him when I could…," she answered softly.

"That is a worthy enough answer," the witch offered her hand to Elizabeth. Nodding, Elizabeth placed her hand within hers with a soft sigh.

Taking the same small dagger the witch had used for Spike's blood scry, she pricked the tip of Elizabeth's finger and watched as a droplet of red formed. Elizabeth gasped and looked to her in shock. Taking her finger to her lips, the witch sucked off the blood and swallowed before releasing her hold, "It is now a blood oath," she smiled. "Now," she said, waving her hands in the air as though to clear her thoughts, "let's see about asking this other witch about portals and such."

Elizabeth slowly cast her eyes down in sadness and defeat, "Thank you," she said in a tone just above a whisper. She wanted to help her sire, but now she hoped she would still be able to travel with him.

The witch composed herself as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply; her face was slack and expressionless. "Klaus," she suddenly said out loud. Her brows drew together slightly in reaction, "Yes, good to hear from you again, as well," she said. Even though there was no one else in that room but her and the young vampire, the witch was clearly having a conversation with someone else. Elizabeth quietly watched as this took place. "I have a favour to propose, from a witch to another witch," she continued after a brief pause. "What do you know of portals? Ah… oh?" she paused again. "Are you now? How would I find you?" her brows drew together as she appeared to listen to a reply. "I see… I would need more details than that. A name perhaps," she sighed. "That is all that you know? Fair enough," she paused. "Yes, yes, we shall have a séance on the night of a blood moon soon. _Auf Wiederhören,"_ she said as she ended the conversation and connection to whomever she was speaking to. The witch opened her eyes and blinked a few times before she cast her gaze on Elizabeth, "Well, there is a way for you to get to the portal, after all," she began, giving her a small smile, "but it does require some effort on your part."

Elizabeth looked a bit hopeful, "What would we have to do to find it?" she asked as she sat forward in her chair, thinking of how long she would be oath bound to stay there, and not wanting to seem like she had abandoned her sire.

"If Klaus were not already in the other dimension, he would likely open the portal and grant you access. Unfortunately, the next best thing," she said, "is to have an _Alp_ guide you to it." She leaned forward in her chair, glancing down as she waved her hand as she described it, "They're malicious little creatures, ordered to do another's bidding. Klaus employs them to vindicate one's ill wishes on another. He recently had one targeting a woman's son. Her name is Frieda Bachmeier. If find her, you'll find the alp, and it'll lead you to the portal."

Upon hearing this news, Elizabeth nodded. She cast her eyes down. She knew well she could not just leave after promising a bit of her time with her. Thinking, she chewed on the bottom of her lip and wondered whether or not to ask for a reading. The witch watched the nervous girl, seeing well she had other things on her mind. She waited for her to respond.

Noticing her habit, Elizabeth looked to the witch with an embarrassed smile, "Forgive me… I was thinking… well, considering…. When you asked if I was here for a reading, I became curious," the girl began to speak in circles out of sheer nervousness.

"Then you would like one?" the witch lowered her head so that their eyes were level with each other. Her grey eyes were dull, but held a gaze that was eerie and piercing. Elizabeth met her eyes with innocence and nervousness as she mulled over the idea in her head one last time.

"Yes," she said softly. A tiny smile appeared on the witch's lips at Elizabeth's meek reply. She pushed herself from her seat and disappeared to another room and returned shortly with a thick stack of tarot cards.

Setting it on the table in front of them, she looked to Elizabeth, "What is it that you would like to learn? A reading on the three aspects of your life: past, present, and future? Or perhaps you'd like to know of your current affairs, where you stand presently and the outcomes, as well as your future's. Keep your desires within your thoughts. Now, shuffle the cards," she instructed. Elizabeth took the cards and slowly began to shuffle them in her hands. Like the curious child that she was, she wanted to know her past, her present and more importantly, her future. What young person did not? She was afraid and excited to know, if she would ever fall in love, if anything were to become of her other than a monster. Keeping those things in mind, she finished shuffling the deck and sat it before the witch with a deep breath.

"Now cut the deck," the witch instructed, watching her carefully. "Have you decided what you'd like for me to read?" Elizabeth already knew her past. Even if there were things she did not know, it was better left to be ignorant; it was best to avoid more heartbreak that her dream had brought.

"Present and future," she said softly as she cut the deck in half. She looked at it calmly, but her hands shook.

The witch took the deck within her grasp and placed a spread of several cards down. She took a moment to analyse them before she proceeded, "The Fool," she said, pointing to the card. "You're currently on a journey of all three aspects- physical, mental, and spiritual," she glanced up to Elizabeth. "I suppose it wasn't such a coincidence you were brought here to meet me," she smiled. She looked back down as she continued to interpret the cards, "There is no need for concern for money, amenities, shelter, or food, you have those areas covered; this is an aspect in your life that you've been blessed with. This journey, it can be wrought with challenges, but you are protected," she glanced up at her. "Whether it is from greater powers or someone, it is still the works of fate that govern these actions." She continued, "There is someone who will play a great role in your life," she indicated at The Emperor card, "The relationship you have with this individual is muddled," she paused, trying to make sense of it, "An authority figure, perhaps; someone you hold admiration and respect for. It is a complicated relationship… this person has difficulty expressing their emotions, repressing what they really feel. You have a lot of patience though," she looked up at her, "an excellent attribute having to deal with someone with the likes of that for the majority of your lifespan." She grew quiet as she tried to make sense of the other cards, "There may be some turbulence on your journey in the near future. You may have to sacrifice something in order to restore some semblance in your life," she tapped at The Hanged Man card. "After this," her finger dragged over to The Death card, "there will be change. With the end of something, you'll mourn that loss, but you'll adapt, and the outcome of this event will make you stronger and define you as an individual."

Elizabeth listened and looked at each card. It was a comfort knowing that the basic needs for her survival would be taken care of and that someone would protect her. God. It must be. The person throughout her lifespan who was difficult- that might be her sire. So far, that was the only person it could be. And then there was the Death card. End of something? Mourning a loss? A defining moment? That more than anything frightened her.

"Th-thank you," Elizabeth said as she nodded. Her mind was racing in all directions, only to come back to the task at hand. "I… should go find him now. Thank you so much for your help. If I should ever return to Germany, I will find you," she said softly.

The witch gave her a warm smile and a small nod, "I shall be expecting you for a future visit."

┼†‡

Elizabeth hurried back to the pub to her sire, hoping that it was the same one they had visited the night before. Pushing her way through the other drunk patrons, she sighed in relief when she spotted him seated at the bar. "I found a way there!" she called out.

Hearing a distinct, high pitched, and English voice twitter over the low tones of German garble, Spike perked up and spun around, revealing that Johann was seated next to him, "What? Really?" his expression growing into a happy and excited smile. His eyes searched for Elizabeth in the crowd as he stood from his seat and waited for her to approach. Johann looked like a dismal mess, a mug of beer in his hand as he succumbed to his inner demons.

Johann glanced up when Elizabeth came forward. His eyes were deadened and the atmosphere about him was dreary and energy draining, "Elisabet," he said, his voice even sounding like it was deflated.

"Tell me everything you know!" Spike demanded excitedly. "Oh, Georgie's a bit on a bender," Spike paused, as he indicated over his shoulder at their German friend. "The whole ordeal with the mud demon and all," he sniffed, "and something troubling him at home, it seems," Spike shrugged. "But, oh, enough about him, what of this way to gettin' to Dru?" he smiled brightly.

Elizabeth gave the man a saddened look. Nodding, she looked at her sire with a small smile, "The witch told me of these creatures, Alps, that serve other witches. A friend of hers told her to find the one he has and it will lead us to a portal. It will take a bit of effort to find it, though."

"Oh," Spike replied, the enthusiasm dimming on his face. "Where would we begin to find these things?" he asked, showing a bit of disappointment.

"'Alps'?" Johann picked up on that one familiar word and echoed it over his mug. "Now you're to tell me those creatures are real, too?" he gulped down a large mouthful of his beer and glanced down as he shook his head.

Elizabeth walked to the man and gently hugged him, "I swear, my friend, nothing will bother you again. No monsters or demons…. Thank you for helping us, but it is over now," she said in a calming and sweet voice whilst rubbing his back.

Johann was surprised at the sudden hug and intimacy Elizabeth showed him, "I thank you for the words of comfort, Elisabet, but it seems since that night, misfortune has followed me," he wiped at his mouth and stared off in front of him, his focus distant.

Standing again, Elizabeth walked to her sire, "It is best to leave. I'll tell you more, then. He has already been through quite enough."

Spike looked to his German friend and gave a nod, "Poor bugger has been glum the entire time. Haven't a clue what he's been saying, but I think it's about a lady. Mentioned her name a couple times," Spike gave a sigh as he shrugged. Giving Johann a couple of hard slaps on the shoulder, Spike said a few words of encouragement before they departed, "Hang in there, Georgie boy. Whoever she is, she ain't worth the mess you've been puttin' yourself through."

Johann glanced up at him and just nodded, " _Danke sehr_ ," he said in thanks.

"Well, what's all this secrecy about? Not like he'd understand anything we'd say," Spike said as he approached Elizabeth, moving away from Johann.

"I just did not want to chance him getting into any more trouble. He is distraught, but I do not want him going mad."

Spike nodded in agreement, "All right, that's reasonable. He seems to be on the edge of reason as we speak."

"The witch told me where I can find the creature. It targets a woman's son. A Frieda Bachmeier. If we find her, we find the creature who will lead us to the portal."

Spike sighed and rolled his eyes, "Bloody witch. How does she expect us to find a woman by that name in all of Frankfurt? That seems to be a common one 'round here; Georgie's woman is called Frieda, too," he scoffed. Spike suddenly let out a chuckle, "Wouldn't it be funny if she were the one that was being afflicted? Maybe that's cause for Georgie's further distress. Not just her breaking his heart."

Hearing this news, Elizabeth's eyes widened, "Wait here," she said before walking back to Johann.

"Wha-" Spike was left with his mouth hanging open. He shut it as he gave another sigh.

Elizabeth sat next to Johann, "Johann… what is your surname?" she asked gently.

Johann glanced up at Elizabeth as she reappeared, "My surname? It is Holtzmann. Why?" His eyes widened, "Is there something wrong that you must learn my surname?"

"No, there is nothing wrong. You see, my mother and father travelled here often, and when I was a girl, I received the most beautiful gifts from a family friend, a Frieda Bachmeier. Before I leave for Paris, I would like to visit her," she said gently with a smile.

Johann immediately set his mug down, "'Frieda Bachmeier'? That is my sister's name." Johann picked up his mug once more and smiled, "Ah, perhaps it is mere coincidence. She's never spoken of having friends from England, let alone knowing anyone outside of Germany," he laughed, a trace of bitterness in his undertone as he shook his head. He pressed his lips to the mug and gulped down more of his beer.

"Perhaps it is a coincidence…, but do you mind telling me where she lives? I would really much like to see if that is her before we leave," she insisted, but holding her sweet tone.

Johann gulped down his beer and paused as he peered at the counter before he spoke, his tone a little softer, more serious, "I'm afraid she is going through some troubling times. It would not be best if she had uninvited guests over," he glanced up at her. "Her son- my nephew- is ill," he sighed and shook his head. "Since learning about- what I had seen in the woods," he tried to explain without saying the word 'witch' to draw attention to himself, "I cannot help but think it indeed is caused by… such things." Johann turned to her, his brows drawing together over his bleary eyes, "It couldn't, could it? And to think all this time I doubted such a thing, to finally have God curse my family with… this?" he chuckled bitterly. "Katrin warned me, and although he is not my own son, he is my blood; she would not give me the sympathy," he shook his head, unaware of the events that had happened the night after he had left the woods.

"God does not curse the innocent, He looks after children. But your nephew, something may be hurting him. If you tell me where she lived, I may be able to help, and you and your family will know peace again. Trust me Johann," she said kindly, her tone and touch kind like a sister or daughter.

"What would you know about healing the sick? Or-" he glanced about him and lowered his voice, "curses for that matter? You and William are just two persons pursuing adventures; William a writer," he glanced across the pub to see Spike throwing his head back as he chugged down a beer," and you, Elisabet," he turned to look back at her, "his travelling companion. Is that not true? Or is there more that you're not letting on?" he looked to her, his brows knitted together as he suspected how peculiar the pair of travellers appeared to be unfazed by the things they encountered, even actively seeking it out.

"I do not know about healing the sick. I have felt for a long time that it is our charge as God's children to help one another. When I had an encounter with the woman in the woods, she told me of the creatures. I believe God brought me there to help others, to help you. You are a dear friend, and I want to help you and your family," she said as she gently took ahold of his hand.

Johann softened at her compassion, "Thank you for your kindness, Elisabet, it was wrong of me to place such judgement on you when all along you've shown nothing but compassion." He sighed and finished his drink, then stood, "Allow me the courtesy to show you myself. I'll have a word with my sister to ease her anxiety having visitors coming so late at night to see her. She needs the generosity of strangers, especially now," he placed his hat atop his head and walked forward. "William," he called out as he neared.

Spike glanced from the corner of his eye as he was finishing off his second pint, "Hmm?" he pulled the mug away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "Georgie, you comin' along again?" he smiled, then looked to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth walked with him, her arm tucked in with his to give him comfort and support, "He is going to show us to his sister's home," she said with a warning look hiding behind her kind eyes. Turning to her friend, she nodded, "Please lead the way. Time, I'm afraid, is of the essence."

Spike looked to them questioningly, quickly setting down his mug and following along, "Why exactly are we paying his sister a visit?" he asked.

"His sister is the Frieda we seek."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **German Translations**  
>  _Ich spreche nur Deutsch. -_ I only speak German.  
>  _Auf Wiederhören. -_ Talk to you later/Goodbye (in the context of ending a (phone) conversation)  
>  _Alp -_ A nightmare creature originating from German folklore.  
>  _Danke sehr. -_ Thank you very much.


	18. Day 18: Witches' Chant PART II

Johann led them along the dark streets, away from the compacted apartments, and closer to nature and land on the outskirts of town. Frieda's home was a small farmland house with a chicken coop in the backyard and a couple of pigs huddled in a pigsty. Johann opened the door and stepped inside the dimly lit homestead.

"Frieda, I'm home," Johann called out to his sister. Spike balked at the door. He stood outside as he waited for Johann to give him a proper invitation inside.

"Johann, it is late!" she called back, disappointment in her voice. She was seated at the fireplace mending some clothes.

"Ah, yes, dear sister. I… have brought some friends. They say they can help us. With Dieter's situation," he explained.

"What…?" she rose from her seat and walked to him. "They would help us?"

"Yes, they are good people," Johann explained. Frieda glanced over his shoulder at the two strangers outside the door, then looked back at her brother.

"Perhaps they have enough money to give to us to send for a proper doctor?" she whispered.

"I do not know," Johann replied, patting his sister's hand, "but the young woman, she is willing to do whatever it takes within her willpower; she works by the conviction of God," he said to her assuredly. Frieda's eyes were wide and hopeful as she looked up to her brother. Glancing over at the strangers once more, she nodded with glassy eyes.

Elizabeth took a small step up to the doorstep so that her face could be better seen, "I met your brother not too long ago. God works in the most mysterious ways at times, but I do believe I can help your son. Will you allow me to see him?" she asked softly, her eyes and voice full of compassion and understanding. Still acting on her old vocation, she had a knack for this kind of work.

"Y-yes," Frieda nodded, blinking back the tears that welled in her eyes, "please, come in," she sniffed, wrapping the shawl tighter around her shoulders.

"This is Elisabet and William," Johann introduced his friends. "And this is my sister, Frieda," he gestured. Spike waited and watched Elizabeth's reaction to this before he made a move. When Elizabeth passed the doorway safely without running herself into an invisible barrier, Spike followed through.

Frieda lit a lantern and led them down the hall, "Please, keep your voices low, I do not wish to wake my husband," she whispered. She pushed open a door at the end of the hall and walked in. Setting the light down on the bedside table, she nestled herself on the edge of the mattress where a child slept. He was young, a child who appeared to be about eight years of age. Even with the dim light from the lantern, his pallor appeared wan and sickly; his eyes were sunken in with dark circles; and his lips pale, only a shade darker than the skin on his face. She stroked his face tenderly, her expression containing the love of a mother, full of worry and heartache.

"Mama?" the boy stirred, rubbing at his eye. "Is it morning already?"

"No, no," she laughed, "Mama just wanted to see you before bed. She's brought some friends who want to see you, too. They say they're going to make you feel better," she explained as she ran her fingers through the waves of his tousled blonde hair.

"Have they brought me sweets?" he asked innocently.

"No," she laughed lightly. "But if you promise to behave, Mama will reward you with some in the morning, all right?" The boy nodded from his spot. Pulling herself up, Frieda quickly wiped at the tears she was holding back as she returned to the door, "You may come in to see him." Elizabeth smiled at her and took her hand with a reassuring squeeze before walking into the bedroom. Hiding her look of pity and sadness, she smiled at the boy and sat at his bedside.

"Hello, my name is a Elizabeth," she said to him in German. Looking at her sire, she indicated with her eyes to look for the creature while she spoke to the boy. "What's your name?" she asked him, her voice light and sweet. There was little else to do but for Spike to follow Elizabeth's lead. Standing in the dimly lit room, he glanced about the dark shadows on the walls. There was an ominous feeling lurking there that wasn't in plain and visible sight.

"Dieter," the boy replied, his voice a little raspy but still giving off a youthful energy.

"My, that is a handsome name, Dieter," she said with a light chuckle.

"Mama said you came to make me feel better. Do you have any sweets?" he repeated his question, this time to Elizabeth. Spike exhaled a little from his mouth, turning his attention elsewhere in the room as he strolled to the dresser and began to peer at the trinkets lining the top. Toys, dolls, some books, a picture frame. There was a small hand mirror resting there as well that Spike turned over to avoid having to explain their lack of reflections. At the sight of a cross pinned on the wall, he flinched. He turned back around, not noticing much out of the ordinary than it being a child's room.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't have any sweets," Elizabeth replied with a little laugh. "You are a very brave, little boy. As a little girl, I was afraid of the dark; I thought there were monsters only I could see. Tell me, Dieter, have you seen any monsters? Because my friend and I, we will make sure it will not bother you anymore."

"Mm," he mumbled, fiddling with the edge of his blanket, "I see a lot, but only when I'm sleeping," he said, not looking at her. "Mama says they're just bad dreams. Sometimes, when I wake up, I can't breathe or move because they like to place the cat on my chest." He giggled and looked up at her, "It's a funny looking cat. It wears a silly hat on its head," he mimed the pointed shape above his head. "But it disappears as soon as Mama comes into the room, and then I can move and breathe again."

"This creature with this hat… does it run somewhere, or does it just disappear? My monster was a big bear. It ran into my closet when my father came into my room," she said, sharing her childhood nightmares with the little boy to get more answers. This 'cat' was probably the creature they sought. The question was, how were they going to get it?

Dieter shook his head, "It just jumps off my chest and disappears. When I tell Mama about the cat, she just laughs. She never sees it. She thinks I'm making up stories, but you believe me, don't you?"

"I do, Dieter, I very much do. We will try to catch it for you. How does that sound, hmm?" she ran her cool hand over his cheek.

"Oh, yes! Please do!" he nodded fervently, giving her a smile despite the state he was in. Spike raised a brow at this happy exchange, feeling nothing more than a pretty fixture next to his companion. The boy was sickly, which was obvious to any onlooker, but the vampire could detect something off about his energy. The boy glanced up at Spike as though he were just noticing him, "Do you have sweets for me?" Spike just blinked at the nonsensical words that came out of his mouth.

"Then go to sleep. All will be well in the morning, I promise," Elizabeth ran her hand through his hair and kissed his forehead. "Goodnight," she whispered softly. Dieter snuggled down lower in the covers and closed his eyes.

"Well?" Spike asked, turning to Elizabeth to explain what just happened.

"It's here; it comes when he goes to sleep. And since its master knows we are coming, we should be able to see it," she whispered to him.

"So we lay in wait for the thing to show up, then we make our move," Spike gave a nod.

Elizabeth nodded as she stayed at the little boy's side to comfort him, "Yes, we will wait for it," she said softly.

There came a knock at the door, "Is everything all right?" Johann asked with a lowered voice, taking a step inside to peer at his nephew from afar. "What do you make of his illness? Is it curable?" he looked to his two friends, searching their faces for an answer that would give him any indication that his nephew's life could be saved.

Elizabeth looked to Johann, "He will be all right, soon," she said as she patted Dieter's hand gently.

Johann nodded as he stared as his nephew's sleeping form, "If you could leave him and let him get some rest now. Frieda asks if you would like anything. We could find some tea to brew, or if you'd like, we have schnapps," he offered, trying to be a good host despite his and his sister's dire situation.

At mention of the alcoholic beverage, Spike perked up, "Schnapps," he said, turning to look at his German friend.

"Tea would be lovely, but I am afraid I have to keep my word. I said we would catch his monster while he slept. It is the one the woman told me about," she whispered.

Johann's eyes widened and he shuffled in closer towards the bed, "Are you to tell me, his affliction with this illness does indeed have to do with some other worldly being?" he said in a hushed voice. "It is a witch, isn't it?" he grasped at the end of the bedpost, feeling like the air had been sucked out of the room. "I… I cannot let my sister know about this. That night we went off in search of it… it must have led this curse back to my family. It was all my doing," he muttered, staring down at the floor.

Elizabeth shook her head and rubbed his back, "No, my friend, a friend of the witch did this. It has nothing to do with you. It will be gone soon. Hush now," she said softly as she hugged him to her. "Go to your sister and say nothing of this. You must be there for her now. Know no blame falls with you." Johann was rigid as she held him, his eyes wide open as a darkness fell over his face. He looked to her as he pulled back, a look of uncertainty. He glanced to the other man in the room, then left, not saying anything else to them.

Spike peered at this scene curiously, just a spectator as the events unfurled, "I'm a bit concerned about what might be on Georgie's mind," he commented, "he does not look at all settled or reassured." He propped himself atop of the dresser, his legs dangling free off the floor, "I do hope he brings me some schnapps, though. Haven't tried that before," he sniffed.

"I hope he becomes well at peace after all of this," she said as she kept a watchful eye out for the little 'cat' to come to the room.

A few minutes later, Frieda returned with a tray of steaming tea and a tumbler of schnapps. "Pardon the intrusion," she said softly as she placed the teacup and saucer down on the bedside table for Elizabeth and handed Spike the alcoholic beverage.

Elizabeth took her tea with a grateful nod, "Thank you for the tea."

"Johann told me you two were keeping vigil over my son," Frieda beamed, her smile tired and grateful. "He would not explain anything more and took to drink himself," she shook her head. "I think he feels he is to blame for this. I don't know why he would," she sighed, "I've explained that to him before. There seems to be a fever going around with the children. It is normal; we have both gone through that as children as well," she reasoned, trying to make herself believe that her son's illness was nothing more normal than what she had once experienced.

"Your brother is a very kind man."

Spike sipped at the beverage, his eyes widening in approval, "It's got a nice fruity taste to it," he quipped, cutting through the nostalgic thick atmosphere, not understanding the weight of Frieda's words. "Oh, uh, go on," Spike said to her, giving her a nod.

Frieda smiled to him pleasantly, then looked to Elizabeth, "I'll fetch some extra blankets for you. It does get chilly in here at night." She returned shortly with a couple of throws, handing one to each of them before shutting the door softly behind her as she left the room.

"It seems we will be waiting for the creature to reveal itself," Elizabeth said softly as she looked at the cut on her finger the witch had given her before looking back at the boy.

Spike sipped at his drink, feeling the burn permeate the core of his body; it was a false warmth that he relished as the temperature dropped lower with the growing night. He sighed as they waited in the dimly lit room. The light from the lantern began to flicker low as it continued to burn off the oil. Lying back on the dresser top, Spike arched up one leg and left the other dangle over the edge as he stared at the ceiling, using the throw beneath his head for a pillow.

"I did not expect to be spending a perfectly good night babysitting," he sighed, swinging his arms back beneath his head. It hadn't been that long since they had been left alone, but they had been waiting in the dark for some time and nothing had made itself apparent yet.

With the throw over her lap, Elizabeth sipped her tea as she watched over the boy, "He is a sweet child though," she said softly. "We have not been here long; it should arrive soon."

Spike turned his head to glance over at the two of them, seeing the silhouette of her guarding the smaller form of the boy lying on the bed, "You look like his guardian angel from this angle."

Elizabeth smiled, "Thank…," she began to say softly, only to hear the rest of his words.

"Just bend your head forward and steeple your hands together, and you'll have the bloody Virgin Mary," Spike chuckled, ruining a rather sweet compliment.

"…you," Elizabeth finished quietly as she turned away from him.

Spike nodded as he watched the span of the room from where he lay, "That bloody thing better come," he sighed. Half an hour had passed and still, nothing had changed within the room. The flame had nearly died out, almost bathing them in complete darkness, save for the moonlight coming through the window.

"Be patient," she whispered.

With the last bit of oil spent, the flame went out. Spike allowed his sight to adjust with just the light of the moon, sighing lightly as he heard time pass with each pulse of the boy's frail heart. They waited for about another hour to pass, but still, nothing showed itself. Sitting there, Elizabeth sighed and wondered how much longer they had to wait. There was no more light in the room to deter the creature.

Spike sighed from atop of his perch as he rolled his eyes, "Bloody hell." He sat up and hopped off onto the floor and started to move the dresser away from the wall, "It ain't comin' 'cause you're bloody sittin' out here like a bloody pink elephant in the middle of the room," he said. He strut over to Elizabeth and tugged her up by the arm, "Let's make it seem as though the boy's in it himself and not let on that we're out here to nab the imp." Elizabeth nodded and gasped, frowning at him as he handled her so roughly. Leading her back to his little hiding nook he had made from behind the dresser, Spike scooted down next to her, and peered out from behind it, remaining as still as the dead. Elizabeth sat motionlessly, letting her sire keep watch since he was faster and stronger than she was.

They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, when only several minutes had passed since they had relocated. Spike heard the sound of a fly buzz into the room, merely ignoring that thought as he kept his sights on the boy, when there came a swirling mist that formed above him. Pulling at Elizabeth's arm to see what he was witnessing, Spike's eyes widened at that unexplainable phenomenon. Elizabeth clamped a hand over her mouth as she watched.

The black mist condensed itself into a solid form, one that did not quite resemble a man or a beast, but something impish like a caricature of a dwarf. It had a large bulbous nose that dipped low, almost as though it were a finger pointing down from its face. Its ears were pointed and tufted, standing straight up like a coyote's, and from what he could tell from the low glow of the moonlight, it had a scraggly beard that grew all the way round its face. Its body was stumpy and thick, fingers that were stout with sharp claws, and large feet with equally sharpened talons. It crouched on the boy's chest as it stared at his sleeping face, causing Dieter to wheeze for breath and whimper as he slept. Although a disturbing sight to behold, the creature looked oddly comical with the strange conical hat atop of its head. Spike lunged out in that instant, giving the thing a swift kick as it hit hard against the wall and fell with a thump onto the floor. Spike glanced over the bed to see the thing scrounging around the floor, losing its hat when it had been assaulted.

Looking around as well, Spike spotted the cone shaped cap roll away by Elizabeth's feet, "Elizabeth, get its hat!" Elizabeth hastily grabbed the hat before the alp could.

The alp stood alert, realising that Elizabeth held what it was searching for, "Give me back my _Tarnkappe!_ " it shrieked in German, its voice shrill as it scuttled towards Elizabeth. It motioned towards its hat, its beady eyes wide as it looked panic-stricken.

"Lookit how pathetic it is without its silly little hat!" Spike held his chest as he laughed, even daring to point at the miserable thing. Elizabeth giggled at her sire's amusement as she held the hat way out of reach of the alp.

"Did you catch the kitty?" Dieter sat up in bed as he rubbed at his eyes. The alp tried to jump up to reach for its cap, but was soon swept up in a makeshift sack that Spike made out of one of the throws.

"No need to alarm the little chap, right?" Spike said, looking to Elizabeth.

Turning to the boy, Elizabeth walked over to him and ruffled his hair, "We did. Now go back to sleep," she cooed to him with a soft smile.

"You need to show Mama so she knows I wasn't making stories up," he insisted. He snuggled back into the covers and mumbled as he turned over, "And then she'll reward me with two sweets in the morning."

Spike flopped the sack over his shoulder as the alp squirmed and fidgeted inside of it, "Bloody hell, you wouldn't think from its size, but it's a hefty one," he breathed, jabbing his elbow back into it, making the squirming stop momentarily before it started up again. "Let's get a move on before the night turns to day," he said to Elizabeth, gesturing for her to get the door. He quickly followed her out as they made their way down the hall, the sack swaying from side to side with the alp squealing nonsensical things.

Johann suddenly appeared in front of them before they could make it to the door, "Are you leaving now?" his face looked eerie from the lantern's glow he held at waist level. "Frieda has long since gone to bed, but I could not, knowing you two were still here." He glanced at the squirming sack from behind Spike, his eyes widening as he heard high pitched squeals, "Is that…?" he gasped. Swallowing hard, he looked to the two of them, "You… you've caught what has been causing Dieter's illness?"

"We have. I suggest you get some rest," Elizabeth said calmly before hugging him.

Again, Johann froze at Elizabeth's embrace. "I… I don't know what to say, but, thank you, for all that you have done," he said, looking to the both of them, a little dazed after experiencing all that he had for the past couple days. "I know that you two are not what you appear to be," he said, looking to them with determined eyes, "but still, I have invited you inside my home. I have come to realise not to ask any questions because I will not get the answers that I expect from you. And at the same time, I don't wish to know the truth," he said a little quieter, looking away. "Even still, I consider you as friends, however strange and unusual that friendship may be."

Elizabeth pulled back as she moved in front of the open door, "I will miss you, Johann. If I come back to Germany, it will be nice to see such a good friend." He nodded at her, then extended his hand to shake Spike's.

" _Gute nacht_ , Georgie," Spike smiled broadly, brandishing the only time he had picked up on the German language as he shook Johann's hand.

Johann couldn't help but laugh at this and responded in turn, " _Gute nacht_ , William."

Finally stepping out into the night, Elizabeth looked up behind them at the lightening sky, "We need to find the portal and soon."

┼†‡

Spike kept up in stride by Elizabeth's side as he periodically shrugged his shoulder to shift the weight of the creature within the bag. The alp continued to growl and squeal as it was shifted around like a sack of grains.

"My _tarnkappe_! Give it back to me!" it continued to chatter.

Spike stopped to set the sack down on the ground, "Good time as any to get the information from the bloody thing," Spike said as he prodded the side of it. "Oy, we wanna know some- oh bloody hell. Elizabeth, just ask it yourself. If it spoke Latin, that'd be a different story," he sighed.

Elizabeth shook her head, "I wonder why its hat means so much to it," she said as she looked down at the moving sack.

"Serves good to have that over its head," Spike laughed at his own pun.

Kneeling down, she spoke in German, "A friend of your master told us where to find you. She told us that you will take us to a portal. We need to go to Nice, France."

The alp paused as it listened to the voice that spoke, "Yes, yes, I'll show you, as long as you return to me my _tarnkappe_!" the fidgeting stopped.

Spike looked up at Elizabeth, "Sounds like its cooperating. Should put it on a leash or something," he mused, peaking inside the top of the sack warily.

"Let me out and I'll show you the way," it insisted, its yellow eyes glowing as it peered out at them.

"Yes. We should find something before we let it out. All I have are ribbons."

"You heard the lady," Spike said, flipping the alp out onto the ground with its stomach facedown. He kept his boot atop of its back while he took to shredding the throw into strips and knotted the ends together to form one long harness, then looped it several times around the alp before propping it back up on its feet. "Now, let's walk this dog to the portal," he said, nudging it along with his boot.

"You will return my _tarnkappe_ to me after this?" it glanced over its shoulder at Elizabeth, eyeing the cap within her hands.

Elizabeth looked at the creature and held the hat tightly, "Once we get to where we need to be, of course you can have your cap back," she said firmly. The alp fidgeted, glancing warily at its cap within her grasp now and again as it scurried forward, leading them towards the otherworldly portal.

Spike kicked up the gravel from behind it, urging it to move faster, "Keep your eyes forward and show us the bloody way!" he growled, showing impatience. He was finally on the right path to finding Drusilla, and the creature they had captured was leading them straight to their magical ticket; he was secretly ecstatic. The alp yelped, giving a low growl as it glared at the tall male, but did nothing in return as they held its hat as ransom. Moving with quickened pace, it climbed over uneven terrain as it brought them into the woods. That area was nowhere close to where the witch resided, instead, they were being led to a more wooded part with denser overgrowth and under foliage. It hopped over a fallen log and walked the length of it, using it as a bridge over a small trickling stream. Elizabeth picked up her dress to gain more speed as she trailed close behind. Spike followed in its pursuit, offering his hand to Elizabeth to take for balance. Jumping off at the end of the log, the alp stood in front of a large hollowed out tree, then turned to glance over its shoulder at them before proceeding forward. It stepped in, disappearing into the darkness that should only have been a shallow, couple feet deep, but as Spike noticed, his makeshift leash continued to pull forward from his hand, leaving a long tether of something resembling more as several feet. Spike smiled and took a breath before stepping in and found himself in the familiar underground space as the demon exhibition. In fact, it _was_ the exact same exhibit, save for the different entrance.

┼†‡

"Bloody hell," he repeated, his exact same words as when he had entered there the last time. Looking around, Elizabeth wondered- if there was a portal in Brussels and Frankfurt, then surely there was one to take them to Nice.

The alp tugged at the leash, "My _tarnkappe_ ," it motioned with its hand for Elizabeth to relinquish it to it, "I have shown you the portal, now return it to me!"

Spike glanced around him before shoving his boot down on the alp's chest, letting it squirm beneath him on the dirt floor, "Hold on a tick, mate," he said in a calm and lecturing tone, "we haven't quite finished what we've set out to look for," he crouched over it as he peered down at the thing. "Go and crawl off to your master now," Spike instructed, miming his hand creeping forward.

The alp looked to him, " _Meister?"_

Spike sighed, "Yes, yes, your ' _meister'_." He lifted his foot off the alp and watched it turn itself over and scuttle forward in search for the other witch who had used it to put the boy in his state of poor health. "Lookit the little thing go," Spike chuckled, letting a long line loose from his grip as though he were walking an actual dog, "kinda hard to believe that pathetic thing is actually that malevolent. Hasn't even done anything remotely bad since we caught it."

Walking at her sire's side, Elizabeth looked at him and wondered what its master had to do with getting to Nice, "Please, do not say that until we get to Nice," she said with a hint of apprehension.

Spike gave a little shrug, "We've already made it to the portal, what could possibly go wrong in this alternate dimension?" Elizabeth only shook her head and wished he would stop talking like that. The alp scurried around in front of them, dodging others as they walked in its path. It suddenly veered off hard to its right, causing Spike to tug on the taut line. Spike eventually had to resort to a light jog to keep up with its pace. Finally catching up to it, he saw the creature scrambling up on the side of a stage and disappearing underneath the cloth of a table. "Hey! Get outta there!" he yelled, yanking on the leash.

"Why have you lassoed my alp with your tawdry rope?" a man's voice with a discernible German accent asked. Spike looked to see an elder man peering down at him from the table.

"So, you're its _meister_ ," Spike smirked, hopping up on the stage to look at him more closely. Approaching the table, he found that the alp had taken to hiding behind the chair of the male witch.

Looking up at the elder man, Elizabeth glanced to the creature then back at the man, "A friend of yours told us where we could find the alp. We need to get to Nice and she consulted you on how to get there," she said in German. Giving a look to her a companion out of the corner of her eye, she prayed he did not speak too soon.

"Ah, you're the one that consulted Gertrude," the male witch replied in English, turning to face Elizabeth.

"'Gertrude'? The bloody witch's name is ' _Gertrude'?_ " Spike took to laughing, finding it odd how plain her name seemed for a witch.

The male witch looked at the rude male with a wary eye, "And I see you've found my alp," he said, turning his attention to the creature behind him. "I hope it did not bring so much trouble for you," he glanced back to them with a lighthearted smile. "She did give me further details about you wishing to go to Nice. That is not a problem," he said, waving his hand in front of him.

Elizabeth smiled at the witch and nodded, "You have both been very kind to help us. Thank you," she said gratefully.

Spike scoffed, "You had that thing put a bloody curse on a child. Have you no shame?" The witch looked up to Spike once more, blinking a few times as he peered at him through his spectacles. Even though Elizabeth cared for the child and was angry someone would target a small and innocent boy, she gave her sire a glance, hoping he would stop his rudeness should anything happen. Looking up at the witch, she shook her head as if to say 'forgive him'.

"I will say, that this is nothing more than a favour, from a witch to another," the male witch said to them, making things clear that he didn't do it out of the goodness of his heart.

"Figures," Spike went on. "See, the thing is, I need to know whether or not your little toadstool there has still got a hold on that boy," Spike placed his hands on the table and leaned over him, giving the alp a glare as he still had the leash within his grasp.

"My _tarnkappe_ , they have it!" it hissed from behind the witch's chair, peeking out at Spike.

The witch glanced behind at the alp, "My, that's right, your head is naked without your hat." He turned back around and spotted it within Elizabeth's hands, then looked to Spike, "Is this your way of overpowering it? It is powerless without its hat," he said. Elizabeth gave a nod, but was still respectful and kind. It made sense as to why the creature was so adamant about getting it back now. "But even without it in its possession, the curse will remain in effect, and will resume once it has reacquired it. Unless-"

"'Unless'?" Spike canted his head, getting annoyed with all these other circumstances.

"Yes, unless the alp chooses to lift it. It is entirely up to it, and has no sway over my word; I employ it to do its bidding, but it decides whether or not it'll carry out the term of the curse."

Spike yanked on the leash, causing the alp to jerk out from behind its hiding space, "What if I just kill it?" he threatened. It touched Elizabeth the way that her sire was concerned for the boy and angry at the witch and alp, but he was taking it much too far.

"Please… stop this. Do you want to get there or not?" she asked in a sharp warning tone. Spike made no acknowledgement of her words.

It was this time that the witch laughed, "It is near impossible to kill these kinds of creatures."

Spike morphed his face and grabbed at the witch's throat, "Then maybe I'll kill something else," he smiled dangerously as he tilted his head, thinking that maybe he'd get to kill a witch after all. This witch was not as quick witted as the other one they had encountered, not having enough time to summon a spell before Spike had him in a chokehold.

"It… it has an evil eye…," he explained.

"And what does that do?" Spike inquired.

"It is where its malicious intent lies. If it is damaged… or removed…," the witch swallowed, "it will most likely stop its malevolent ways."

Spike looked to the quivering creature at his feet then looked back at the witch, "You better be certain 'bout that." In one swift motion, he released the witch and instead had the alp in his grasp, slamming it onto its back as he took his thumb and plunged it into the creature's right eye. It howled and thrashed in pain as Spike held it down firmly, "Well, not sure which one is the evil one, may as well take out the both of 'em," Spike sniffed, pushing his thumb into the creature's remaining good eye. He released his hold on it as he let it thrash and squeal in pain on the floor. Elizabeth covered her mouth in shock.

"You monster!" the witch screamed, looking at him in horror. "Please! Return its _tarnkappe_ to it, now!" he waved his hand outwards towards Elizabeth. Spike wiped off the blood on the hem of the witch's cloak when he was turned away, then stood up.

"An eye for an eye, mate," Spike said, shifting his form back to normal. "Say, how about opening that portal for us now?" he smiled as he slapped his hand on the witch's chest.

"Don't you dare think to touch me!" the witch slapped Spike's hand away as he stomped over to Elizabeth and swiped the cap from her grasp. Elizabeth only prayed they were not going to be plunged into any danger all because of her sire. Walking back to snatch the leash that Spike offered for him to take, the witch returned to the poor moaning creature and placed the cap within its hands, "I have your _tarnkappe_ here."

"Oh, c'mon, you're a bloody witch, you can heal it with a snap of your fingers," Spike peered over his shoulder, watching the creature continue to squirm.

"He was a good alp and did its job well," the witch said, untying the alp from its constraints.

"Did I hurt your means of income?" Spike asked. The witch looked over his shoulder at Spike to glare at him, "Oh, so I did," Spike chuckled out of surprise. "I thought you had an army of them doing your evil biddings."

"They are hard to acquire and tame in this region," the witch rose from his spot, his scowl never leaving his face.

Elizabeth looked at her sire in shock and anger. It was then that she remembered what the witch had said. She had gone back to the witch with the uncertainty of what might happen to her, meddled in the lives of a kind family and their young boy, and had done all of that to return to him, a man who was half friend and half foe, so that _he_ could return to the woman he loved. And she still did not know why. Now here they were, so close they could almost touch it, a witch who was willing to do them this favour, and he had the nerve to be rude?

Grabbing his arm, the little mouse had enough, "Listen, I went out of my way to do this favour for you. We are in the presence of a witch. You know what happened when you tried to hurt one before. Imagine if you greatly insulted one. Please, for all that is good, please think."

"Best to listen to the words of your friend," the witch agreed, "that is sound advice."

Spike peered over at Elizabeth, "You actually concerned about me?" Elizabeth did not answer her sire's question. Turning back to the witch, Spike sized him up, "All right, I'll admit I was a bit rash. I just had my first taste of schnapps tonight, and I must say, it was rather good. I believe it was infused with pear," he commented. "But I digress. Would you, oh mighty male witch, fulfill your witchy obligatory favour and open the portal for us?" Spike glanced to Elizabeth, "Please," he said, turning back to face him. The witch stood there, his expression deadpan.

Elizabeth looked back at the witch and spoke in German, "My apologies. That is an apology on his behalf. I am sorry for any insults he may have caused," she said, her voice firm yet kind.

The witch raised his brow in slight, "I'd rather hear the apology from his own lips," he said, turning his head a fraction as he looked to Spike.

"Hmm? What? An apology from me?" Spike said, touching his chest. "Why the bloody hell would I apologise?" The witch gave him a look as though he really needed to give him an explanation.

"My patience is growing thin and I'm afraid my offer to uphold this favour is fast closing," the witch huffed.

"Bloody hell, if any, _you_ should be the one apologising- to my friend, his sister and his little runt of a nephew, and most of all, _me!_ Puttin' a curse on an innocent who can't even fend for 'imself," Spike scowled back at him. "If the kid had croaked, and I happened to travel back to Frankfurt, I'll have to put up with all his sobbing and moping," Spike explained. "Georgie makes for an excellent drinking companion, and God forbid, you're the one to ruin it!" he pointed.

" _Really?"_ the witch looked to him incredulously. " _That's_ the reason _why?_ " The witch put his thumb and forefinger to the temples of his forehead and bowed his head, finding it hard to fathom what sort of creature he was dealing with.

"Well, sure," Spike replied, trying to sound convincing, straightening his back.

"You really are depraved and sick," the witch said as he lifted his head, "and possibly the most selfish creature I've ever come across. Even my alp showed an ounce of compassion and selflessness for me, but you," he chuckled bitterly, "you're a lost cause."

"Great, thanks for the compliments, mate. Needn't sing the praise all at once," Spike said dryly.

"Get away, I don't wish to see your face," the witch waved at them, turning back around to aid his grovelling alp.

"And the portal?" Spike asked, his voice sounding hopeful.

"The window for that offer has long shut!" the witch snapped, scooping the alp up within his arms.

"Well, I'm sorry you're such a bloody poncer!" Spike yelled, stepping up after him. "I'm sorry you're such a failure for a witch! Probably impotent in the portal department, ain't you?" Spike halted in his tracks as he tried to further pursue the witch, only to be blocked by an invisible barrier as the witch stepped out behind a curtain. "Possibly impotent to other forms of portals, too, ain't that right!" Spike yelled louder, making sure the witch heard him. "BOLLOCKS!" Spike growled, flipping the table over on the stage.

Elizabeth watched with wide blue eyes of shock, anger, and utter embarrassment, "You… I went through all that…," she said in a near inaudible whisper. "I am not going to say another word. Find our way. I will just follow," she said in a soft hush of a tone that was tired and exhausted.

"Good! I don't want to hear it!" Spike growled in her face, catching every hushed syllable she uttered. Elizabeth glared back at him before he stomped off ahead of her. She kept her distance as she walked behind him, keeping just close enough to calm herself down while the severity of the situation fell on her stubborn sire. She silently kicked herself for constantly putting herself on the line for him, having no idea why.

Meanwhile, Spike felt the most disappointed in himself. He was too proud to bow his head to admit his wrongdoings and to apologise, but he was not going to apologise for the suffering the witch had caused to his friend and his friend's family.

"Oh, God, Drusilla, what have I done…," he muttered, cupping his hand over his mouth, realising how close he was to being reunited with her. He had it just within his grasp, just to have it dashed by a stupid whim of honour on behalf of a friend that didn't even know he had committed for him. Spike glanced over his shoulder, feeling all ready to hurl himself at the witch's feet, really committing to the idea of grovelling and begging and self-effacement when he caught sight of a flash of red and blue. His eyes lit up, "Oh, oh! Red and blue!" he took off and ran over to a familiar face. Upon hearing him excitedly call out French colors, Elizabeth picked up her step to keep up with him.

"Hello," the red headed and blue skinned demon greeted him as she offered him a flier, "would you like a flier? My name is Elgardah."

"Ain't you a sight for sore eyes, love!" Spike smiled brightly at her.

"Is there something I can do for you?" she inquired, arching her brows slightly, not recognising him.

"Yes, yes, as a matter of fact," Spike began, becoming quite serious. "Firstly, I'd like to get some things straight. We're currently standing in an alternate dimension, altogether, are we not?"

"Yes," she replied, straightening out the leaflets in the crook of her arm.

"Yet, you have a portal open currently in the vicinity of Brussels, yes?"

"That is correct," she agreed.

"But," Spike smiled, getting a little excited, "I didn't come here by the Brussels entrance. I was brought here by a portal from Frankfurt." Elgardah blinked her orange eyes as she waited for him to further explain himself. "So, my question is, there has to be other portals that open to this dimension, than just the two I've just listed. Would there, by chance, be one that connects to Nice, France?" Elizabeth held a small smile as she stood by her sire. Standing there, she listened and followed his line of thought. It relieved her to just follow and let her sire lead for a while. Standing in her silence, she wondered why she felt the need to act for him at all.

"Portals are only opened under the scrutiny of our regulations. There may be some opened temporarily as a means for transportation, but from the sounds of it, the one you entered was manufactured against our guidelines," she said. Spike quirked a brow at this. "I'll have to have that Frankfurt portal closed," she nodded. "Thank you for alerting me of this."

"Wait, hold on," Spike took a step towards her as she waved to alert someone, "bloody 'regulations'? For demons? For an underground exhibition for demons?"

"Yes, of course. This is an organisation after all. We cannot risk the chance of just anything coming through those portals. That is why we have someone standing guard at the gates," she explained.

Spike folded his arms over his chest, "Fair enough," he sighed. "Is there a way to have one opened in Nice, though? That is ultimately what I need to know."

"Why, yes, of course," she replied simply enough. "We can open a portal anywhere in the nine worlds."

Spike smiled once more, "Would you open it, then?" Someone came by to Elgardah and she spoke to it in a demon tongue, giving it some instructions before it went off with its directions.

She turned back to look at Spike, "No."

Spike's smile faded quickly into a scowl, "Why the bloody hell not?"

"I don't just open portals on a whim on account of someone's request," she said, briefly letting her gaze fall over him.

"I detect a shred of discrimination from you," he narrowed his eyes. She stared back at him, her expression unreadable as she blinked. "Oh, come on!" Spike cried, breaking composure, "What do I need to do for you to open it? The last bloke who could do it, wouldn't," he failed to elaborate why. "I'll cooperate this time. You need something done? I'll do it," he said, a tone taking on desperation and pleading. A different assistant approached Elgardah at that moment and pulled her aside.

"Excuse me," the blue demon said to him, lifting up a finger to indicate she'd only be a moment. She turned her head as the demon spoke to her in a lowered tone, unbeknownst to them that they'd have a vampire that was eavesdropping. Standing nearby, Elizabeth kept to herself as this transpired. Since she was at a slight distance from the situation, she blended in a little more, and took advantage of it to listen to the demons' hushed conversation.

"It has returned."

"How close?" Elgardah asked.

"It was spotted within the national exhibition, just several vendors from our booth," the assistant replied. "There have been some human witnesses."

"Their curiosity will lead them this way," Elgardah sighed, not liking the sound of this news. "We may need to close this exhibit earlier than intended."

"Should we try another cloaking spell?"

"No, that does not mask the anguish from the expired," Elgardah shook her head. Spike listened intently, hearing a familiar scene explained within the unknown context of their cryptic conversation. "There isn't anything else we can do but keep a guarded eye on its movements," Elgardah instructed. Her assistant nodded and left.

"Some trouble abreast?" Spike quipped innocently, raising his brows as Elgardah stepped back towards him.

"Yes, some," she said hesitantly, looking at Spike curiously.

"Vampire hearing," he explained. She blinked and let her gaze travel over him again. Spike looked down at the front of himself, wondering if there was something unusual on him, but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

"Perhaps I will require some assistance from you after all, vampire," Elgardah said, casting her eyes up at him.

"Spike," Spike said, "And you'll open the portal to Nice?" he pressed.

"Yes," she replied.

"Yes!" Spike clapped his hands and let out a happy laugh. "Bloody brilliant!" he settled down a bit after his ecstatic outcry. "I like you," he smiled, giving her a nod. Elgardah blinked at him in turn.

Elizabeth walked a bit closer to join her sire's side, "What is back?" she asked in a curious tone as she looked at the blue demon and back to her very excited sire. Whatever the task, at least they would soon make it to Nice to reunite him with Drusilla.

Elgardah looked to Elizabeth, now just taking notice of the female vampire as she spoke to her. She glanced to Spike, seeing the proximity and familiarity the two appeared to have with each other, concluding that they were companions.

"It's fine to share, we're both trying to get to Nice," Spike said, noting the host's hesitation.

"It is nothing more but a scavenger demon," she explained, looking to Elizabeth. "It feeds off the residual energy from the dead, but only if the victim has died from a particularly traumatic death. It's ancient, empathic, and relatively harmless unless you provoke it, or stop it from feeding," she continued.

Spike smiled, "I know, it's a Angor Vorator," he pointed out, knowing full well what it was she was describing, just confirming his suspicions. Elizabeth gave a look of recognition to the name. It was the little flash of light they had seen that nearly drove her sire mad. "I encountered it here the last time I was in Brussels," he sniffed, feeling himself a bit of an expert with that type of demon, despite only having encountered it a couple times.

"It has become attracted with the likes of our large feeding pavilion. We need a steady supply of humans, as it is a well-known cuisine and taste to a large portion of demons in this particular dimension," she continued. Hearing this, Elizabeth held back her look of shock and dismay, knowing full well that such empathy would be very bad for them. "But with it constantly hovering around, it is starting to attract unintentional attention. We cannot let humans know of our existence," she concluded.

"So you want me to kill it?" Spike took a step forward, flexing his hands a bit, getting ready to put on a fight.

"No," she said, looking to him, "we don't engage with killing other demons. Just get rid of it." This set the wheels in Elizabeth's mind to turn.

"'Kill', 'get rid of', those are two very interchangeable things to me," Spike looked to her warily.

"Relocate it. Send it elsewhere so it does not bother our patrons and us any longer. Are you capable of doing that?" she asked.

"Well, I suppose I could do that," Spike sighed. "Just a question: why'd you wait so long for this to escalate? Why not just send one of your muscle to do the dirty work yourself?" he asked.

"We don't step out from this dimension; everything is done within the space of this dimension and does not involve contact with the world outside, only the patrons that enter it. We don't employ guests that enter because they are under no obligation to, as we serve them," she further explained.

"Oh, then what am I? Am I not a guest?"

"You trespassed through an unauthorised portal," she said without pause, "and you're doing this in exchange for something. Not a guest, and not exactly 'work-for-hire' either," she glanced down over him. Spike was starting to get annoyed with her sweeping eyes. "But, desperate. Very desperate."

"We could set a trap for the demon," Elizabeth suggested. Knowing her sire's affinity for violence, he was the perfect setup to lay a trap for such a creature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **German Translations**  
>  _Tarnkappe -_ camouflage cap/cap of concealment; the alp's hat that gives it its magical powers and the ability to turn invisible while worn  
>  _Gute nacht -_ Good night  
>  _Meister -_ Master


	19. Day 19: Waiting

Spike turned to look at Elizabeth, "I like where you're thinkin'," he replied, taken a bit by surprise by her statement. It was calculated, and from where her thoughts appeared to stem from, it required a form of foul play. Elizabeth tilted her chin up with a broader smile at her sire's praise. It seemed like the little mouse was coming into her own, even playing off his love of violence to bring them closer to their resolve. "Ooh, I'm gettin' all tingly just thinkin' 'bout it," Spike chuckled, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

Elgardah escorted them towards the Brussels entrance, "As long as you ensure that it remains alive," she reminded them, turning to face him.

"'Course," Spike cricked his neck. "I do need you to open another portal for me when I do find this leech for its relocation," he said, looking a little more serious, as though he were making a business exchange.

"I'll allow it," she nodded.

"Be back in a flash," Spike stated, taking a step out through the portal.

**Brussels - December 3, 1880**

As he was transported to the little dingy tent in Brussels, he saw the familiar demon bouncer taking guard and took no more than a couple steps forward. It was daytime. "Oh, for bloody sakes," Spike huffed with exasperation. He turned around and stepped back through, catching Elgardah in time as she was walking away, "Eh!" he called out.

She turned around, her expression unreadable as usual, "That indeed was 'a flash'," she said, her deadpan expression making it difficult to gauge whether she was poking fun at him or being serious with her words.

"Uh, well," Spike shifted in his spot as he glanced down, "I haven't done anything, _yet_ ," he began, looking back up at her, "it's bloody daytime." She blinked at him. "I'm a bloody vampire. Light and creatures of the night don't mix well. It results in death and ashes," he explained, sighing loudly.

"Yes, I know that," she replied. "Is that all? I do need to tend to other guests," she passed some fliers to some other demons as they walked by, some stepping past Spike as they entered the portal.

"But that'll require me to wait till nightfall," his voice, taking on the tone of a child trying to persuade his parent to buy him a toy he shouldn't have.

"I suppose you may have to if you want to live," she stated plainly.

Spike sighed and turned away, "Bugger."

"It will be a fast wait. Crowds, noise- if you go to the right place, it will be very quick work to catch the demon," Elizabeth said as if she were deducing segmented thoughts as they popped into her mind.

Demons made their way around Spike since he was clearly in the way of the entrance; he began to walk forward, "I suppose I can get a bit antsy when I know there's going to be violence involved," he looked to her as he moved with the current of the crowd. He sighed as he stared forward, looking mildly downhearted, "And that I would be with Drusilla sooner if it we didn't spontaneously combust under the sun's rays." He gave a little shrug, "I'm not thinking at all that straight. I haven't had a meal since last morning; not a drop of blood that entire day." It was clear he was heading towards the food pavilion to get the form of sustenance he required. He ordered a warm pint of blood and settled down on a bench, beckoning Elizabeth to join him, "Entertainment me with some mindless drabble so it'll take my mind off things and pass the time quicker," he said in one low, monotone breath. Just when the smaller vampire was about to refuse, her own hunger persuaded her to do otherwise. Joining him, Elizabeth sat next to her sire and had a bit of blood herself.

She chuckled a bit and shook her head, "And to think you enjoyed our conversations. What am I supposed to say? Just start a conversation off the top of my head or just say random rubbish?" she answered back wittily.

Spike leaned his chin in his right palm as he glanced to her, "A conversation sounds more inviting than being alone to one's own thoughts," he sighed. He took to unravelling the bandage on his left hand, revealing that the gash on his palm the witch had left him the previous night had now diminished to a light and fading scar. He flicked the bandages aside and took a big gulp of his blood, "Perhaps we could play a game." He hesitated as he looked to her, his brows turning upward just the slightest, "Mm, no, no, you wouldn't want to partake in it. It's not up to your standards," he said, turning away as he took another sip.

Sipping her own blood, Elizabeth quirked a brow then set her cup down, "Oh? What kind of a game? " she said with a curious and challenging tone. One thing that was resounding in her youth was her sometimes overwhelming curiosity.

"Well," Spike began, turning to face her, "I name a person, someone well-known or fictitious, and list some qualities about them. Then you choose whether you'd kill, drink, or shag 'em," he sipped at his blood. "Like I said, that isn't entirely something to your taste," he sighed. "'Twas a little game Angelus, Dru, and I used to play at times," he shrugged. "Thought I'd just throw it out there."

Looking down, the innocent, young woman seemed in thought. She was indeed a little mouse and had her little moments of bravery, but was still just a sweet girl all the same. Looking up from her cup, she held a brave look on her face and the innocent smile of the girl who sat behind the pair of crystal blue eyes, "I'll play."

Spike nearly choked on his blood.

He coughed as he pulled the mug away from his lips and turned to face her, "Never thought I'd hear you say you'd have the bollocks to play a game like this," Spike said, his eyes wide with surprise. "All right," he nodded, chuckling, "I'll go first, since you're not too familiar with this." He paused as he mulled over the possible candidates, drumming his fingers on the side of his mug, "Ah, I've got an easy one for you. You're quite acquainted with him, possibly downright infatuated with the bloke, I'd say," he grinned. "The Bard. Good ol' William Shakespeare. Would you kill, drink, or shag 'im?" he waggled his brows at the last statement.

Elizabeth gave a smile at the mention of her favourite author- the man whose stories and plays provided her with days of comfort and entertainment. Seeing her sire's suggestive expression, she looked down as she blushed and chose: "Drink," she said with a bit of thought and sipped her blood a little too quickly.

Spike hummed at her, "Really? Thought you'd have other intentions with the man who inspired your incessant daydreams," he teased. "'Suppose a drink from a mind as brilliant as his is pretty honourable in itself," he nodded, thinking he'd probably do the same. "Bet you'd sire him, too," he laughed. "All right, on to me. Show me what you've got," he gave her a daring look as he sipped his blood. Elizabeth had to give this thought. She did not know many people personally and only had well-known people and her precious authors to think of. Picking one, she nodded to herself.

"Mary Shelley," she said. Her novel Frankenstein was always interesting to Elizabeth in the same way science and her slight interest for horror novels were.

"Huh," Spike gave her a knowing look, "'course Mary Shelley." He glanced down as he took the mug to his lips, "This is an easy one. Shag." After taking a swallow, he felt he needed to explain his answer, "You know, if I had never met Drusilla. Definite shag. Have you seen portraits of her?" He exhaled through his mouth and shook his head, "Stunnin' bird. Brilliant mind, too. I'm sure she encountered some form of monster that inspired her infamous book," he mused.

Elizabeth raised her brows and giggled a bit as she looked back at him, "I loved her work. Sometimes I- …nevermind. Your turn," she said softly, avoiding embarrassment before taking a sip of her blood.

"Oh?" Spike propped his elbows on the bench top and rested his chin atop of his laced together fingers, "Don't leave off on that thought, love, share," he leaned forward, grinning, really camping up the notion of picking up on her interest. Whenever Spike happened to notice Elizabeth was embarrassed about something, he'd make sure to dig further and have her reveal what it was.

Elizabeth gave a sigh and smiled, "I used to imagine what she would sound like. I've never met her in person and wondered what it would be like to have such a great author as a sister. I was quite lonely, you know," she said with a smile, almost mocking herself.

"Ah," Spike replied, not knowing what to say to this. "But you had a brother, yes? A brother who liked to lock you in dark closets…," he added the last statement after a brief pause, knowing that didn't quite resolve anything. Glancing down, he let an audible breath out through his lips as he raised his brows, "Shall I continue, then?" he said, saying this as more of a way to let her know that perhaps it'd be best to play the game to help forget those sorts of thoughts. Spike actually thought Elizabeth was fortunate to have a sibling, if not a sister, at least a brother; he was an only child. "Oh, I know," he chuckled, "Napoleon Bonaparte," his laughter grew louder. Elizabeth let out a laugh at the very thought of that.

Thinking a bit, she nodded, "Kill. Such stupidity and power madness I cannot stand," she said with a shake of her head.

"Really? You're not at all swayed by the wee, strapping Frenchman?" Spike teased. "Ambitious, quick-witted, intelligent- he inspired a great deal of confidence within his men when he was out there on the field with them," Spike tried to sell the dead military leader's good qualities. "I will say that he was a brilliant tactician," he nodded, "whether one argues he had the mind of brilliance or a mind filled with delusions of grandeur, depends on where they stand politically," Spike reasoned. The vampire's thoughts trailed as he made an unmistakable parallel with Napoleon's and Angelus' meticulous mind strategies. Angelus was ultimately more perverse, Spike concluded.

"Queen Victoria," Elizabeth said with a small smile, having a little bit of fun with the game.

"Oh, Christ, the bloody Queen?" Spike rolled his eyes at her. "I'll have to say kill, unfortunately," he sighed. "Too old to drink- never had the taste for 'em," Spike explained. "True, she's royalty, but may as well kill one and inherit the spoils of riches," he shrugged. "And like the first reason, too old to shag." Elizabeth laughed at his response. Spike drained the last drops of his blood and licked at his lips, waving his hand at the barkeeper for another pint. "Hmm, how about we mix things up a bit?" Spike suggested, resting his chin within his palm as he thought of another candidate for Elizabeth. He suddenly grinned as he looked at her, "Our good ol' friend, Georgie." Elizabeth looked back at him as if that were the strangest thing she had heard. He was indeed a very dear friend.

"Drink," she said, her convictions and her code of killing horrible people keeping her from the latter options.

"Hmm, can't seem to find a proper match where you'd actually willingly want to bed the poor bloke," Spike teased. "I'll let Georgie down gently with the bad news," he chuckled, having his second pint of blood brought to him.

"Hmm… Jane Austen," she suggested, thinking how she enjoyed reading her work.

"Why do I get this impression you'll just be listing all your favourite authors in succession?" Spike quirked a brow. "Drink," Spike replied. "If she were alive and thriving, wouldn't kill her. I do appreciate her literary genius. Wouldn't say she's my cup of tea to shag either, but a taste of her blood perhaps, and some idle chitchat on her works," he mused. "All right," Spike lifted a leg over the bench, as he straddled the seat, lifting the tail of his coat to fall behind him as he repositioned himself, "now we play make-believe," he said, rubbing his hands together. "This bloke," Spike sipped at his blood and set the mug back down, "say, blonde. He's got the most charming smile- a literal Prince Charming; even got the white stallion in his bloody stable. But," Spike sniffed and rubbed at his nose, "despite having the hair of a Norse god, he's simpleminded and smells of cabbage. Kill, drink, or shag?" Spike had a twinkle in his eye, finding a lot of amusement out of this, and possibly trying to narrow down what sort of man Elizabeth took a liking to. Elizabeth turned her eyes away from her sire to further imagine the man he described. The fictional man sounded like a handsome knight from one of her stories. A man, that as a child, she would dream would take her away and live happily ever after with.

With a thoughtful look, the young vampire nodded with her decision, "Drink. If he is handsome and a prince, it means nothing to me if I cannot have a good conversation with him. If you can not really talk to a person, what else could there be?" she said with the same conviction as when she spoke of her disdain for the aristocratic structure.

"All right," Spike nodded in agreement, starting to see what portrait of a man she'd turn to. She wasn't a shallow person, and she appreciated someone with a brain at least. "You sure the smell of constant cabbage wasn't your main turn-off?" he chuckled, drinking some more of his blood. "I'm up. What have you got in works for me?" he asked. Elizabeth really had to wrack her mind now. She did not know many people in life and she was running out of authors and public figures already. With her brows knit together in thought, someone finally came to mind.

"Emily Clarke. You said you went to parties where you saw Jon. I did not know Emily well, but she was always there."

"Remind me who she is?" Spike inquired, furrowing his brows together in thought. True, he frequented those soirees, but he didn't care to socialise with everyone; there were only a select few that he was forced to socialise with as a youth and had grown up with that he bothered to continue to interact with.

"Well, she is tall, has reddish brown hair, blue eyes, and a roundish face?" Elizabeth tried describing her. "She came to some of the social gatherings and teas I went to with Mother."

Spike leaned on his elbow and rested his chin within his palm as he drummed his fingers along his cheek, "Auburn hair…," he said, trying to conjure up a picture of this mysterious woman Elizabeth described. Spike imaged the sight of her- fair, a sweet smile, and an elegance in her movements. "She was a dainty thing," Spike said. "All the men were like wolves, panting at her feet," he rolled his eyes. "Drink," Spike said, putting the mug to his lips.

Emily had been kind to Elizabeth, trying to engage her in idle gossip to make her days outside of the manor fun and interesting; she behaved like a young woman her age would. Elizabeth was always dignified and reserved in her late teens; she had her books and her gardening to keep her company. Tearing herself from her memories, she nodded as she took a drink herself.

"Here's another scenario for you," Spike said, turning to look at her. "This man has a heart of gold- spends all day helping the sick and homeless. However," he raised a finger, "he hasn't got a penny to his name. He's dressed in ragged clothes and sleeps under a bridge like a troll." Spike smiled, "Kill, drink, or shag?" Having an unlikeable characteristic or trait was becoming a common theme to the vampire's made up men. Elizabeth's eyes greatly softened at this new fictional man. Even when her sire said that he was poor and dressed in rags, she held a soft look on her face, something that could even be described as sweet; the fake man's poverty mattered little.

"Drink," she said, picking the lesser of two evils. In her mind, she would have a drink and either stay with him, or let him go, as well as do something that could help him.

"'Course you'd drink from him," Spike mumbled, knowing now that whatever the outcome, she would always choose to drink to avoid 'killing' or 'shagging' them- save for Napoleon. He thought it was a funny reaction for her to despise him so much. He would need to be more creative and extravagant if he wanted her to do something else besides 'drinking' them all.

Elizabeth looked at him with a small smile and sipped her blood again. It almost felt like a battle of wits- he trying to embarrass her, and she, ducking every set up he threw at her.

"Hmm… not many people…," she said softly to herself as she went through the women and girls she knew from her mother's gatherings. "There was this one girl I knew. I did not like her too much. Cecily, I think her name was," she said, her voice a little lower from her soft and usual tone. At mention of that name, Spike stiffened. He let his eyes fixate on the grain on the wooden bench top, not saying anything for a lengthy period of time as a thunderstorm of thoughts and emotions welled up in him.

"If I could, perhaps I'd choose all three," he said bitterly, no longer carrying the sense of amusement and whimsy he had throughout since the beginning of their game, "but since it is required I choose one for the sake of this bloody game," he turned to look at her, "kill." Elizabeth raised her brows a bit at his bitter look and the malice in his voice, but chose not to ask. It was better for her not to ask too many questions.

"Your turn," she said softly as she sipped her blood again.

Spike sighed and rolled his eyes, "Whatever I say, you'll only end up spittin' out the same response. You ain't got the nerve to 'kill' 'cause of your twisted will of God, and you're too much of a bloody nun to 'shag' a bloke, so you'll just end up 'drinkin'' them. Well, how 'bout this? I'm sure you'll get your fill on your drink." Spike straddled the bench once more and huffed, still feeding off on the foul mood from Elizabeth's previous option. "He was a hopeful, one with dreams and ambitions. Delighted in the arts- could say he was an artist in his own right. Oh, he had a way with words," he chuckled, "but see, the thing is, he wasn't very good at them. And although he knew he was terrible, he pursued it, because that was his bloody passion. Yet all the bloody people ridiculed and laughed at him behind his back, people he once considered friends. He was a kind and gentle soul, he was, and a romantic at heart. Doted on his sickly mother whom he devoted most of his time just to care for her in her last dying days. You're probably thinking, 'where's the big 'but'?' I've got it here: he was well-off, sure, BUT, he was a sad and pathetic man. Meek, insecure, and a little wet behind the ears. He was a sensitive, blubbering infant if he so much was ridiculed, left to weep alone in a dark back alley. SO," Spike looked to her, "let me hear your predictable answer and 'drink' him. Or surprise me," he laughed, "and 'kill' him, just to put him out of his pathetic misery." As Elizabeth listened to his tale of this man, her eyes softened once more, and even a small smile came to her face. She somewhat knew what this fictional man felt; she felt the same at times, being ridiculed by her family for her love of reading and her childish notions of love and beauty. Hearing the big 'but', she shook her head gently and looked back to him.

Her eyes met his, "I would not kill him. Such a kind man should not give up hope so easily just because people are cruel. I don't think I would drink him either. I would love the company…," she said with blushing cheeks. "I am not going to say it… but it might come later," she said softly. With her answer, it was apparent how young and innocent she was; her crystal eyes even held a slight twinkle in them.

"If you won't kill him, or drink him, you'd have to-" Spike stopped mid-sentence as he realised what remaining option would be left. To further confirm this were Elizabeth's burning cheeks. "You… you're lying!" Spike stood suddenly, this time being the one to flush scarlet.

Elizabeth looked at him with confusion as he stood so abruptly, "Why… what's wrong? It is only a game." He glared down at Elizabeth, not believing she would choose to 'shag' the very description of the man he once was. Who would want to choose a man like that? Who would… love a man like that? The mere thought of who he once was sickened him; he had learned that the love he felt growing up from his mother was also a lie.

"What if I told you he killed his own mother?" he pointed to her face. Elizabeth's eyes grew wide. "Don't think you'd want to share the same air, let alone bed," Spike growled. He turned to leave, "I don't want to play this game anymore!" he huffed, feeling the need to hurt someone. Getting up herself, Elizabeth followed at a safe distance away to give him some room. To the confused girl, the man he had described was purely fictional.

Spike rolled his eyes as he felt Elizabeth trailing behind him, like the shadow he couldn't shake; the thorn in his side had returned. Farther up ahead, he noticed a hands-on demonstration where volunteers could handle the devices themselves. This vendor was with weapons.

"Oy, let me have a go at it," Spike said, stepping up.

The demon there handed him a hefty axe, "A battle axe of Grimora, made from the metals gouged from the mountains of Div'inii."

Spike tested the weight within his grasp, letting it twirl at his side, "Feels good," he said, glancing down at it.

"Aye, that is a good match on you," the demon nodded, his face reptilian-like, with scales that hung off on his lower jaw that resembled a beard. There were melons lined up on box crates, and chunks of them were strewn about on the ground below, having been the result of that exhibit's weaponry. Spike gripped the shaft tightly with both hands, lifting it above his head and brought it down the centre of one of the melons. He watched the head slice the fruit clean in two.

"Bloody brilliant!" he breathed. "Barely even put much force to it!" Spike said, looking to the demon.

"Aye, the metals are one of the sharpest from our world," he nodded.

"Eh, melons are good and all," Spike said, "but you've got a live one to go?" The demon raised a brow as he crossed his arms. "They've got a whole lot of tasty humans packed in the food pavilions," Spike explained, "wouldn't make much of a difference if we hacked a live one out here for demonstrative purposes," he said, letting the axe rest over his shoulder. The demon rubbed at his chin and consulted with one of his colleagues. Spike grinned, feeling a bit of his stress alleviated as the thought of hacking someone to tiny pieces played in his mind.

Elizabeth stood in the back of the crowd and watched her sire from a distance. "What is bothering him so?" she asked herself with a slight hint of annoyance. Usually when he lashed out, there was a reason; that was just a little game.

The two demons that were discussing the matters turned into three demons, then four. Spike took a seat on the crate and watched as they debated with each other, slicing the melon with the axe with ease into smaller slices that were manageable to handle. He picked a piece up and began to eat it as he watched the chattering demons when a child offstage noticed him eating the melon.

"Here you go, kiddie," Spike said, offering a slice to the curious demon child. It smiled and readily took it, rushing off to rejoin its parent. Other demon children took notice of the melon the demon child was consuming, and it pointed to the stage where Spike sat. They gathered down below, lining up to get their free sample as well. "All right, get in line, children," Spike yelled with some annoyance, sighing as he handed out slices of the refreshing fruit. "When the bloody hell did I become the attraction?" he grumbled. "I just wanted to hack someone into itty bitty bits."

Elizabeth giggled with amusement as she watched her sire turn from an axe wielding vampire into a fruit vendor, "Things just get more and more interesting," she said to herself as she sat on a bench and watched from her spot.

As the children got their fill on their melons, they attracted more attention from other demons throughout the exhibition as they walked with the fruit in hand.

"How the bloody hell did this happen?" Spike huffed, seeing now that there were not only a line of children, but a steady stream of demons of all shapes and forms. "I'm just one bloody vampire, here!" Spike yelled out, chopping up a couple more melons and distributing them to the greedy hands that reached out to grab them from his. "Oy, I remember you! You've already had your fill! Bugger off!" Spike pointed at a familiar face. He wasn't exactly sure why he was doing it, but with the crowd of people there, he felt obligated to at least finish what he had started. Being too involved with his actions, Spike failed to notice someone had walked up behind him until a hand touched his shoulder. "Blimey!" Spike jumped, turning to see that it was the demon whom he had asked about hacking a live human. "Oh, you're finally done with your 'chat'?" Spike said sarcastically.

"Aye," the demon nodded, "We cannot have a live human for a demonstration."

"But you bloody took an hour just to come to that conclusion!" Spike screeched, feeling he was being used. He stood and noticed that Elgardah was lingering just a few feet away on stage, the stack of fliers in her arms as though it never dwindled.

"No killing demonstrations," she said. Spike let out an exasperated sigh as some angry 'customers' demanded he give them their share of melon. She watched as Spike handed out the remaining few slices.

"That's it! No more! I'm outta business!" he waved his hands at them to leave.

"You're not getting paid for that," she stated, turning to leave.

"I am well aware of that!" he hissed at her. "But I bloody should!" he yelled after her. Spike shoved the axe back to the demon vendor's chest and walked off the stage, wearing the most annoyed expression on his face. "Enjoy yourself there?" Spike said as he returned to Elizabeth, knowing she had witnessed everything. Elizabeth giggled more to herself and stood when her sire came into view. Spike paused, "Tell anyone about this and I'll reveal you actually wished to shag someone," he sniffed. Elizabeth slightly stiffened at this, but otherwise, made no other comment.

"The sun should be down by now. The sooner we set the trap, the better?" she asked, hoping that reminding him of what they were there for would somehow cheer him up.

Spike nodded, "Oh, God, yes! Please let the sun be down now," he moaned as he headed to the exit, "Spike needs a good spot of violence and thrashing," he prayed to himself.

┼†‡

He stepped past the portal, being once again transported to the tent. This time, the exterior appeared overcast, but a bit of sunlight was still present. "How much time till sunset?" Spike turned to the guard.

"Just a few minutes," he replied, merely glancing his way before turning back to keep watch.

"That isn't long at all," Spike nodded, settling down in the tent to wait. He kept his eyes on the line of light on the ground outside, watching as it moved farther away from the entrance. When the clear-cut line of light was replaced with a muddled twilight shadow, Spike jumped to his feet and stomped out. "See you soon, mate," he said cheerfully to the two-headed guard. "All right! Spike's been repressed far too long! He's gonna get his share of killings tonight!" he laughed, almost skipping down the walkway.

Elizabeth smiled a bit as she walked out of the tent and quickened her step to join him, "I know full well you can lure the creature. Do you have any further ideas on trapping it?" she asked as she looked around the crowd.

"To be honest, although it may be on the geriatric side and a bit of a loon, you can bargain with it using reason," Spike said to her. "It's a bit of a glutton, so if you dangle the prospect of feeding it with a proper meal, it will generally follow you around, so long as it gets its version of a fair share," Spike shrugged, returning to his former self. Elizabeth nodded. It made sense that something that depended on others for food would be somewhat reasonable. "I just need to lure it with something it can't resist," Spike glanced around as they moved out to the general public, seeing the teeming onlookers that had gathered at the exhibition. "Surprised this bloody thing is still so lively," he commented, moving forward past tents and vendors, trying to find a solitary woman he could whisk off without causing a commotion- his version of window shopping. He passed by the portraiture kiosk they had previously visited, then stopping in his tracks, slowly backtracked to halt in front of it. Turning his head, he noticed their portraiture was framed outside amongst the other examples displayed. This time, the development looking crisper and less darkened. "'Look, mum, I'm famous,'" he said with less enthusiasm, turning to look at Elizabeth. "What do you think of being the face for 'De Winne Publishing & Co.'?" Spike asked, glancing up at the sign. "The world of advertising is starting to become quite lucrative," he chuckled, teasing her.

Looking at their portrait, Elizabeth giggled a bit, "It certainly is," she said. Giving her sire a sideways glance, she could not help but still feel a little offended with his previous form of 'blackmail'.

Spike carried on, moving forward as he carefully peered through the crowds for his prize for the night, the ever observant predator that he was. The majority of people were couples, or small families, but never a lone girl wandering to explore by herself as some men did. He slowed as he caught sight of a young woman waving to a small group of her female friends, exchanging farewells as she departed from them. Spike walked out of step from Elizabeth and began to follow the girl, keeping himself hidden from view as he watched where she went. She appeared braver than most women, daring to stray from the promenade used by the general public to shorten her time to cut across some empty lots. Quickening his pace, he fell into stride behind her, matching her footfall so that it didn't create an echo. When she turned a corner, he had her in his arms, muffling her cries as she gaped at her attacker.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed as she took notice of this. A girl brave enough to be alone, just like her. Swallowing a bit of anger, Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, crossed her chest, and whispered a prayer for the girl. She could not stop her sire without causing a scene, nor would it be wise to, being that he was stronger, quicker, and a bit more agitated than usual. She slowed her pace so she could leave him to his work and spare herself from the awful sight.

The role of being the hunter was something Spike delighted in. He prolonged the thrill of the hunt and kill this time, really drawing on the idea of eliciting as much anguish he could muster from the girl to smoke out his Angor Vorator. Working out of Elizabeth's view, the details of torture remained secret, but the girl's muffled cries could be heard if one was within a few feet of walking distance. Spike stepped out a few minutes later, rosy and chipper as ever, having a good fill on her blood.

"Ah, and now we wait," he stretched his arms over his head as he saw his progeny waiting. Elizabeth looked at him with narrowed eyes, feeling as if she was reliving her death all over again, yet she said nothing this time. Spike knew she didn't approve of the way he toyed with his victims, or even how he needed to feed in general- as it was evident on the sour expression on her face- but it was a means of survival. She wasn't exactly starving herself at any length either, so he'd be quick to throw her hypocrisy in her face if she made a deal out of his behaviour. "Wanna see how one of those things feed?" Spike asked her, hoping to at least spark some curiosity. Looking in the direction of the dead girl, Elizabeth nodded with some interest like a child seeing a wild animal for the first time. Spike beckoned her to follow as he returned to the area where he had left the girl's body, then lay low in some shrubberies as he waited for the anguish demon to take his bait.

It was quiet between the two vampires, squatting behind the foliage of an esteemed park as though a pair of peeping toms. Spike wasn't sure how long it would take for the demon to detect the anguish of a dead victim. Thinking how large the city of Brussels was, it could take minutes to hours. He let out a low sigh from his mouth, letting his lips pucker as boredom caused him to be restless. He entertained the idea of getting another victim to send out a larger message before standing, when a little flash caught his attention. Perking up, his eyes widened and his lips curled into a grin as he watched the flash spark by the body, and the corporeal form of the grey and slender anguish demon materialized from thin air. It leaned over the body of the victim, bending close over the face as it opened wide its mouth. An eerie mist, translucent and wisp-like, began to rise off the still form, and funnelled into the demon's gaping mouth as it sucked in the essence of traumatic energy that had left its mark on the victim's former vehicle. It was most interesting to watch how the demon fed; it was such a curious thing, this entire culture. Elizabeth's new life just got more curious at every moment, something that intrigued and frightened her to no end.

Spike popped up suddenly from the bushes and walked forward, "Fancy bumping into you here," he smiled, sounding as though he had just happened upon an old friend at a cafe. The demon spun its head to look at him, jagged teeth bared and eyes wide. Spike casually wiped at the leaves that had managed to cling to his coat, "Remember me?" he asked it in Latin. "I'm your meal ticket," he nodded at the body on the ground. Standing from the bushes, Elizabeth watched as her sire began to negotiate with the demon.

"Oh, yesss," it hissed, its lips curling upwards into a hideous grin. "You bring delicious meals with your heinous acts," it bobbed its head, along with its entire body.

"Well, can't blame a guy for trying," Spike sighed, giving a little shrug. "I know you've missed me and all, seeing as you're now scavenging off the demon exhibition," Spike began, "and I know, it ain't like what we had, but I can't continue to feed you."

"I want _mooore_ ," the demon quirked its head as it eyed Spike, turning its head to glance at Elizabeth, then back to the male.

"Who wouldn't?" Spike sniffed. "But, no, I'm not stayin' in Brussels on account of you. Sad to break ties, yes, but we can move on from here." The demon swayed its body from side to side erratically, its movements jarring and terrifying to witness. "I'm here to relocate you," Spike explained simply enough.

"I want _MORE!_ " it hissed, taking a staggering step towards the male vampire.

"Can't always have what you want," Spike shrugged. "I will say, though, that where I'm going to take you will satisfy you. Very much, so," he nodded.

The demon canted its head as it peered at him curiously, "More anguish than what you can produce?"

"Well, I wouldn't go so far- yes, yes and in larger quantities," Spike stopped himself from underselling himself. "So, what do you say? Would you like me to show you?"

"Yesss…," it hissed, letting its raspy voice rattle at the end of its answer, its tail swishing from side to side.

"Good, excellent," Spike smiled, quite pleased with his negotiation tactics. "We got a winner 'ere!" Spike turned to glance at Elizabeth from over his shoulder and grinned at her broadly.

Smiling, Elizabeth gave a light applause, "Brilliant. On to the portal, I assume?" she was tired and just ready to travel to Nice and settle down somewhere after the last night of delays.

"Yes," Spike replied, cheery as ever. "Ready for your new home?" he asked the demon in Latin. The demon did not respond and just watched the two, creeping in its strange movements as it followed them from behind. Returning to the tent, the guard stopped them from moving beyond the entrance.

"I need proof," he stated.

"You just saw me a few minutes ago, mate. You're to tell me you forgot this face?" Spike motioned his hand upward to his head.

"Proof," the guard said sternly.

"Ugh," Spike quickly morphed into his vampire visage. "Satisfied?" he fell back into his human guise and stepped through, beckoning for the grey demon to follow, "Just this way."

┼†‡

Once they had stepped past through the portal, Spike glanced about frantically for his blue and red hostess, "Elgardah!" he bellowed, spotting her not too far from the entrance. "I need you, now!" She turned to glance at his direction, her composure always calm and dignified as she slowly made her way towards him.

"Yes?" she asked, glancing behind at the anguish demon. "You've located it," she said, looking back to the vampire.

"Indeed I have!" he chuckled, feeling like he should have been given a reward. "Now," he slapped his hands together and rubbed them, "open a portal to Paris, would you, love?" he chuckled, feeling excited.

"As you wish," she replied.

Upon hearing her sire request a portal to Paris, Elizabeth looked up at him with wide eyes, "You mean Nice, don't you? Paris is probably a very, very bad idea," she cautioned him, hoping this was just a slip of the tongue.

"Oh, I mean Paris with all my blackened, evil heart," Spike chuckled. "They had me locked up for days and almost had me killed," he spat. "This is just a little repayment for their hospitality, a little thank you present," he smiled at her. During Spike's drivel, Elgardah had summoned up a portal a few metres in front of them, waving her hand in a wide and circular motion as she mumbled a few choice words in a demonic tongue, all whilst maintaining her pile of fliers lay neatly in the crook of her other arm.

"It is done," she said to them. The portal was more visible than the Brussels entrance, a translucent and white, swirling mist that had a shimmer emanating from the round edges, like water evaporating in the heat of the hot sun.

"Cast a demon out, they get a demon in return," Spike said, taking a step forward.

Elizabeth took a nervous breath and shook her head, "I only pray you know what you are doing and make quick work of this," she said in a timid and scared voice. The young vampire was resourceful, but still had so much to learn and always erred on the side of caution when she could.

"It's just through here," he called out to the Angor Vorator, switching back to Latin. "And into the rabbit hole we go," he smirked, passing through into the Paris portal. Having her sire go back to Paris could be very dangerous for the both of them, but Elizabeth followed them into the portal anyway, hoping to God he knew what he was doing.

┼†‡

**Paris - December 3, 1880**

The portal opened to an area in Montparnasse, close to where Spike had visited before when he was searching for clues on the mysterious disappearances and vicious deaths. He had gone to an infamous cabaret nearby, where he had first learned about Angelus and Drusilla's presence in Paris. It was with that tip, he was able to follow and pursue their trail, leading him back in an ironic circle to where he had started.

"You feel it in the air?" Spike closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, turning to glance behind at the demon as it sauntered forward. "Death and gloom, a buffet of anguish for you to gorge on. Go on, don't be shy," he encouraged. The demon canted its head as it peered at its new surroundings, as though to test the new waters. Spike peered off into the horizon, squinting as he tried to locate a specific area, "Ah," he noted, pointing over the centre of the city, "there. You'll find that that is your hot spot," it was the general square where they had their executions.

"Yesss… I feel it…," the demon hissed, turning its head to where Spike pointed. Within a moment of that discovery, the demon disappeared, leaving up a spark of a yellow flash behind where it trailed.

"A thank you would have been nice!" Spike yelled after it, knowing well a demon of that kind lacked that type of moral reasoning. "Well, off we go," Spike smiled. "And you were all worried for nothin'," he teased Elizabeth.

Seeing the demon leave, Elizabeth sighed with a great feeling of relief, "I suppose I was. I never expected it to be this complicated," she said with a light scolding laugh at herself for being so worrisome.

"I suppose living an unlife is rather complicated in general," Spike shrugged, finding it something to be very normal now.

"And now the journey is soon finished."

"Oh, God, it's so close, I can taste it," he sighed, feeling anxious butterflies flutter in his gut.

"You still have the jewellery box, don't you?" she asked. "It would be such a shame after coming all this way, only to lose Drusilla's present."

He patted at the inside of his coat, feeling for that distinct, square shape, "'Course I still do," Spike narrowed his eyes at her, feeling stupid that she had made him doubt himself briefly in that moment.

┼†‡

He stepped through the portal and felt himself being whisked back into the underworld dimension. There was no need to search for the blue hostess this time, as she was standing by the portal in wait for their return.

"Oh," Spike said as he was greeted by her deadpan stare, "didn't expect such a warm welcome," he chuckled.

"I need to ensure that this portal is closed properly," she said, waiting for them to step aside. She waved her hand over it as the large man-sized portal began to shrink into something smaller and smaller, until it was a pinprick, then all but vanished.

"Now, Nice!" Spike cried, scarcely being able to contain his excitement as he waited for her to finish. The vampire was giddy, delirious with excitement as he watched the blue demon hostess finesse her portal making skills. "If my heart could beat, it'd burst out of my chest and lie hopping around on this very floor," he said, getting ready to rush through as soon as the portal was completed.

Elgardah turned around to face them, her expression serious as usual, "It is done."

"Brilliant! Bloody brilliant!" he rushed forward, took hold of her one arm, and shook it, "Oh, you've been a godsend, I could kiss you!" he beamed. "Oh, bloody hell," he bent forward and planted a kiss on her lips, finally causing the neat stack of fliers to cascade down from her arm. "Tata, love!" he chuckled. Waving his final salute, he plunged through the portal to Nice.

Elizabeth laughed a bit as she was equally happy to finally put an end to their tedious journey. Holding onto their suitcase, she followed after him.

┼†‡

**Nice - December 3, 1880**

"Thank goodness it is still nightfall after all is said and done," Elizabeth said as she took a look at their new surroundings.

Spike caught himself running forward in an empty back alley before stopping in his tracks. He glanced behind at his progeny as he straightened himself up, putting stress on his lapels with an affirming downward tug, "Yes, that is a good thing, as we still need to find them," Spike said, knowing well that was the very last obstacle in reuniting with his love. Elizabeth gave a knowing nod. Of course they had to find them; there would be no resting until they had done so. It wasn't that much of a big deal, compared to everything they had been through thus far, but knowing that they were in the same city, breathing the same air, drove Spike a little mad. As Spike turned to face the exit of the alley, he noticed the portal begin to shrink as it had with the one from Paris. Elgardah must have ensured that they would not be returning, Spike thought. Coming out on the normal street, the atmosphere was quiet and pleasant. Some food vendors lay scattered on the streets, and there were also cafes still open in the vicinity as well. There appeared to be a mixture of locals and tourists roaming about, very quaint and easy going with their own personal agendas; it very different from the rambunctious and liveliness thrust in one's face whilst in Paris. Spike sighed as he looked about him, "Now where to begin," he thought out loud. Walking along the streets, Elizabeth smiled at her surroundings. It would be lovely to take walks and sit at cafes once things settled down, she thought.

"Hmm… an inn? They might be at one of the very nice ones," Elizabeth suggested.

"…Yes, that is a good place to start as any," although feeling a little downtrodden, Spike nodded in agreement. He honestly didn't know where Angelus and Drusilla would be staying. Their tastes varied wildly from the highest end of hotels, a quaint country cottage, to the expanse of marble floors of a castle-like mansion, taken off the dead hands of their midnight supper. They ventured inward, toward the heart of the city where there were several hotels situated. Spike found one of the more expensive hotels to go to first, working on logic they'd opt for something that was of the highest luxury above anything else.

"Bonsoir," the concierge greeted them at the front counter.

"Bonsoir," Spike replied, surprised that it was a woman. "You speak English, love?" he asked. Following her sire into the hotel, Elizabeth smiled at the kindly woman at the front desk, but kept quiet and held their bag patiently.

"I do," she smiled, her accent surprisingly good. "Are you here to check in?" she inquired, a pleasant smile on her face. She appeared to be her in thirties, rounded, rosy cheeks, with a very pleasant and welcoming atmosphere about her.

"Not exactly," Spike began, "I'd like to know if there are a couple of individuals that may have checked in here recently," he explained.

"Oh?" her brows raised as she glanced between the two of them.

"Family members," Spike replied. "We were to meet them here in Nice, but they failed to mention which exact hotel they'd be staying at," he laughed, "and now I'm afraid we're running around in circles just trying to find them," he shook his head as though family matters were so troublesome.

"Ah, I see, that can be rather difficult," she nodded. "I can check our logbooks to see who has checked in," she said. "What name would they have checked in under?"

"Either Angelus or Drusilla," Spike glanced down at the pages of the book she had pulled out.

She paused to glance back up at him, "Are either of those the surname?"

"Uh, no, no surnames. Just either, 'Angelus', or 'Drusilla'. They're… artists," he added. She glanced back down and nodded, as though that explained things, but did not further question the vampire. Spike quirked a look at Elizabeth as he waited for her reply.

"No… I do not see anyone by those names," she said.

"A man about yay high," Spike raised his hand a couple inches above his head, "long, dark brown hair past his shoulders. Got a stern, ridged brow," Spike pointed at his own forehead, "and has an Irish accent. He's with a woman, a couple inches taller than her," he canted his head towards Elizabeth, "long, flowing chestnut hair. Large, round eyes. A little… flighty, starry-eyed look."

"No, sorry," she shook her head at their descriptions.

Spike sighed, "Thanks." He turned and headed towards the door, wondering how much longer they'd have to hop from hotels with this same scene till they found them. He wasn't even sure if they'd sign in with their own names, as sometimes, they'd take on pseudonyms for fun. This would be a long night.

The next few hotels came up with the same results as the first.

"Perhaps they haven't checked into this particular area," Spike surmised while they exited the latest hotel they had inquired about. So far, even with his superior sense of smell, he had not picked up a hint of their scents. Either they had passed that area long before, and their scents no longer remained, or they had not been there at all.

Walking with her sire from hotel to inn, the young vampire sighed with each disappointment, "This is the main city. Perhaps the inns by the trains? Perhaps they thought the same as we did- safer and shorter commute in case of emergency?" she suggested.

"Between Angelus, Dru, and I, we all work on a basis of very different thoughts," Spike sighed, looking to her. He knew she was trying to be helpful, but she had no idea the inner workings of his evil sire. And Drusilla, one could scarcely keep up with her wordplay unless they documented it. Spike at least had a knowhow on how to filter out most of her psychobabble to understand the context of what she really meant at times. It was like trying to decipher a riddle. "But, yes, we could go look there," he answered, thinking it would all be the same, having no leads in that new city at all. He got directions from the hotel they had just left and set to head there by foot.

Heading to the station, Elizabeth walked in silence, enjoying the crisp night air. Just like Elizabeth, Spike did not engage in idle conversation either. It had been a long two days, and he had yet to sleep. He felt that if things persisted the way that they had, he would have very little sleep if at all that day, too. The idea of splitting up to search for them did occur to him, that way they'd cover more ground. But at the same time, he did not push the idea to actually voice his opinion to her. Arriving at the inn district by the stations, Elizabeth saw a lovely one stand out amongst others that were more humble. The young vampire was semi hopeful since there were very few inns left. Noting her discovery, Spike gestured to her that they enter that one. Having gone through the same script so many times that night, Spike no longer cared to smile or laugh. He had resorted to a clear-cut checklist of finding their names on the logbook, finding out whether the concierge had spotted any pair with their physical appearance, and his newest one- looking at the logbook himself, to see if any names jumped out at him, or whether he recognised Angelus' handwriting. None of those items were a hit at this train station inn. Elizabeth sighed as the little hope the pair had was dashed again. Even though they had had their differences and fights, they had gone through a lot to come this far.

They had travelled for a few hours within Nice, and by now, the hour was getting dangerously late. Spike could choose to push a couple more inns or hotels, to chance finding his vampire family with the risk of just missing dawn, or he could find a proper place for the both of them to stay and resume his search the following day. He did not like to be confronted with these kinds of decisions with so little sleep and anxiety. He sighed and looked to Elizabeth warily.

Looking to her sire, Elizabeth shook her head with a reassuring and friendly smile, "There are only two left," she said, trying to give her traveling companion a little more hope.

"Those two could very well be the difference to finding them," Spike smiled, forcing himself to sound hopeful and keeping a positive outlook. God be damned if he _still_ didn't find Drusilla after being told exactly where to find her _and_ being transported there directly through a portal. They entered the next best inn within that area and were faced with the same disappointment. It really had been such a common answer that Spike expected it. It was easy to anticipate the answers before the desk people replied, too, being able to read their body language and the way they phrased their sentence the moment right before they gave their replies. Stepping up to the last inn within that district, with the backdrop of the lightening sky, Spike glanced up at as he moved forward, "This is it. They bloody better be here, or I will kick a puppy," he said in a low growl. Entering the lobby, there was no innkeeper present, considering the time of day. Spike rang the counter bell for service and heard the sound of someone in a backroom getting up from a bed. A dishevelled man in rumpled clothes appeared at the counter after a couple of minutes, clearly being woken from his slumber. Before he could speak, Spike asked if he could speak English.

"Ah- yes," the man took a moment to realise the switch of languages, but nodded. "Please, speak slowly. My brain is still tired," he explained, stifling a yawn with his hand.

"I'm looking for a couple- a man about this height, dark hair about to here; Irish. He's with a lady, this high; dark locks down her back, usually curled; large, doe eyes; English. Their names are Angelus and Drusilla," he glanced over the counter, waiting for the man to pull out the logbook to search for their names. The man took a moment as he tried to process all the information the stranger had given him, and merely blinked. "May I?" Spike indicated at the logbook. The man complied and set it down in front of him. Scanning the dates and signatures of the people who had logged in with his finger, Spike did not see Angelus' distinct writing. He checked so far back to two weeks, which wasn't much from the looks of it with the amount of guests that stayed there during that time. "Nothing," Spike sighed as he turned to Elizabeth.

"Would you care for a room?" the man asked once more, stifling another yawn. Spike glanced out the window and could see that the sun was just about to break out past the clouds.

"Yes," he sighed with defeat. The innkeeper took his keys and led them to a room, modest in size, considering how they'd been pampered with the extravagant ones they'd been staying at the past couple weeks, but adequate for their short stay. It was a single room with a double bed, wardrobe, window, a small breakfast nook with a table and chairs, and an entry table.

Elizabeth sighed with a shake of her head when they were faced with the same disappointment. Hopefully they were not too late to find them. Walking into the room, she sighed as she set the suitcase down and took her hair down for the first time in a few days. Getting ready for sleep, the young woman fell onto the bed in a soft sigh of relief and sat up to look at her wary sire, "We will find her," she said with the same friendly tone now laced with a soft breath and the need for sleep.

Spike sat at the table, his shoulders slumped forward as his eyes remained downcast, "I know we are. I can feel her. It's just maddening that I haven't found her, yet. She's just so close," he glanced up at her. "You should sleep, you look tired," he nodded at Elizabeth, knowing that like he, she had been awake for the same amount of hours.

It was a wondrous thing, to be in love so much that one would go to the ends of the earth, risking life and limb for someone just on the hunch that they were there. The young vampire could not help but hold a small and somewhat envious smile. Nodding, she placed her head on her arm and pillow and closed her eyes.


	20. Day 20: The Definition of Love

Spike shook Elizabeth awake as soon as the sun set, "Time to get up," he said with urgency in his voice, "I intend to make the most of this night. We'll walk the entire perimeter of this bloody city, scour every inch of its paved ground and exposed soil- I will bloody get my Dru back!" he said with renewed determination. The vampire had about him a crazed look in his eyes, but that might have been because of his lack of sleep, or the caffeine from the coffee he had consumed earlier provided by the innkeeper from that morning. Or both.

"Nnmm…?" Elizabeth groaned with confusion as she was shaken awake. Getting up, she simply pulled back her hair and dressed in a simple and comfortable dress, just in case it was another long night. It was nice and slightly unnerving how wired awake and determined her sire was to find Drusilla as they left the inn. "Where do we start?"

"I've drawn it out on a map," he lifted one up to show her. "I've marked the areas where Angelus may most likely visit, those being churches," he pointed at a few scattered X's that were marked on the hotel map that he had obtained from the innkeeper. "Looking at where they're located depending on density, we can go to those areas first, then work our way around to those ones," he indicated at the places he had outlined in black ink, some more provisions he had borrowed from the innkeeper. "Also, areas of entertainment, along the Promenade des Anglais, and possibly, places where there'd be parties held," Spike spoke rapidly, pointing to other areas of the map as though giving a presentation. "Here," Spike handed her a copy of the map with a trembling hand, "careful, the inks are still wet," he cautioned, giving indication that he had recently drawn up those sections. Taking her map, Elizabeth nodded. "Now, let's go. We shan't waste any more time dilly dallying!" he called over his shoulder, a copy of his own map within his grasp. It appeared as though the vampire had given this a lot of thought and planning, something he hadn't shown much initiative with recent past events.

Elizabeth looked at her map and scanned it as she made some mental notes, "Are we separating in our searches?" she asked as she followed behind him with quickened step.

"I gave that some thought," Spike said, "seeing as we'd cover more ground that way, but no," he looked to her, "how am I to find you after if you happen to find them first? No, no, I cannot risk that, no," he shook his head. "It is just simpler for you to have your own to hold," Spike had reasoned, feeling that he'd be more comfortable holding his own map rather than having to share and looking over her shoulder.

"Of course," Elizabeth said as she carefully opened her map to give it another once over.

┼†‡

Spike set out towards their first target: the square at Place Rosetti where the Cathédrale Sainte-Réparate stood. The square itself was a lovely place to visit- buildings painted with a colour scheme of red and yellow ochres, with terraces of restaurants and ice creameries ensconcing the spaces. If they had been on holiday, this was a place they'd take time out to explore, but as it was, that wasn't the case- not yet at least. Elizabeth looked around her in awe and wonder, especially enchanted by the sight of the cathedral before remembering why they were there in the first place. Shaking her thoughts free, she kept her eyes out for the pair they were looking for. There was music playing throughout the night air, a soft echo created from the open spaces that curtailed off the walls of the high buildings. Spike was blind to the aspects of that romantic scenery as he sniffed the air, hoping to catch a whiff of Drusilla's scent.

Pushing through the great wooden doors, Spike did not give much mind as other patrons walked out. It was the typical scene of any cathedral- long aisles; rows of wooden pews; a great altar with lit candles; and magnificent displays of stained glass windows depicting scenes of Christ, angels, and other saints. Elizabeth looked around with a peaceful face, the beauty of that sacred space bringing her much happiness before being pulled back into reality. Spike swept his gaze around the large cavernous room, noting the few scattered individuals whose heads were bowed in silent prayer. Stepping down, he was careful to glance at each pew and letting his sense of smell dictate where to follow. There was no trace of either of the vampires there.

"They're not here," Spike sighed, turning to Elizabeth. With an abruptness, he sauntered out, leaving a house of God just as pristine as he had entered it. Elizabeth was quick to follow after him, glad that this church fared better then his visit to Notre-Dame."We can wander the square in the meantime, but I haven't picked up their scents within this vicinity at all," he said from outside the church, glancing down at his map.

She nodded, "Then we will keep looking," she said with a friendly smile.

Spike gave a curt nod as he kept his eyes on the map, trudging forward swiftly with a goal in mind. A street performer was playing his guitar not far from Spike's line of passage, with a hat set down on the ground before him to collect donations. Not paying attention to his immediate surroundings, Spike walked into the man's hat and tipped over his night's earnings. The man immediately stopped playing and yelled at him from behind in Italian. Elizabeth gave the man an apologetic expression. Spike didn't even flinch, too consumed with his thoughts. He glanced up around him to see the next landmark to make the proper turns to the next square, and carried on without pause. Not wanting to distract him, Elizabeth kept up with him, but also made sure she was aware of their surroundings.

It was almost uncharacteristic of Spike to be so quiet and focused as he walked the streets of Nice. As soon as he cleared the area of one, he'd shake his head and let out a soft sigh, sometimes mumbling under his breath. His gait was quick, almost at the speed of a light jog, and he didn't care to wait for Elizabeth, expecting that she'd have to match his pace because of the urgency of the situation. For her, though, it was almost impossible to keep up with him in the long dress that she wore. Picking it up slightly, she hurried along behind him, careful not to let him fall from view. They had traversed a good number of areas on the map, having visited a small number of churches and the vicinities around them, but Spike had yet to pick up any clues or scents. Elizabeth broke into a slight run to keep up as they headed towards the next square, Place Garibaldi. Spike suddenly halted in his tracks, causing Elizabeth to stop just short of running past him.

"What is it?" she asked as she dropped the skirts of her dress and smoothed it out.

"Do you smell it?" he said quietly, his eyes searching in the distance. Elizabeth tilted her head to the side. She didn't smell anything save for baked goods from a nearby bakery. Sniffing the air, he closed his eyes and smiled, "It's Dru! It's bloody Dru!" he cried, turning to look at her, ecstatic. He laughed as he continued forward, letting his sense of smell guide him, all but forgetting the purpose of the map as he let that drift from his grasp. A small smile of relief came over Elizabeth's face before she picked up her dress once more and hurried after her excited and love struck companion.

Drusilla's scent grew stronger as Spike followed it. He picked up speed, his light jog turning into a full out run as he weaved in and out on the dark streets, appearing like a madman. With an exhausted sigh, the young vampire picked up the pace and ran behind him, careful to dodge passersby in an attempt to catch up. Passing innocent bystanders, their coats ruffled as Spike sped by, nearly colliding into them save for the mere inches he afforded himself to slip through. On one occasion, he was the cause of a poor maid to drop her basket of groceries, and another man spinning when his papers went up in a flurry of sorts.

On his whirlwind pursuit, he finally stopped as the Place Garibaldi came into view. Following as close as Elizabeth could, she skidded to a halt as she once again, stopped a little bit behind her sire, about to pass him up from his sudden stop. There, Spike had the view of a fountain in his sights, and the image of Drusilla skipping across towards it. His wide-eyed look of shock and surprise turned into one of glee and relief, which was soon replaced with a large grin that spread out across his face. Crossing Elizabeth's line of vision, she smiled. Spike let out a laugh as he watched the sight of his love move across in the distance, past the magnificent display of waterworks, and soon disappeared from his view. The image of Drusilla was soon replaced with Angelus as he followed after her, stepping with slow measured strides. Just as quickly as Spike's mood had turned into one of joy, it was spoiled with Angelus' presence, and his smile dropped into a glare. The sight of him also made Elizabeth's smile melt away. From Angelus' and Drusilla's perspective, the female caught sight of Spike's imminence, and she stood up from the fountain, clapping in glee as she pointed for her sire to turn and see. As she had forewarned, Angelus looked down the dark street from where he stood and saw the apparition of a very angry vampire, and the shadow of his semi vagrant and often lost looking progeny.

"ANGELUS!" Spike howled, "I WILL BLOODY KILL YOU!" As soon as those words of proclamation had left his mouth, the heated vampire charged at his sire. Taking quickened steps, Elizabeth approached Drusilla, the only person who had protected her from the very beginning. Though she gathered that she was insane, Elizabeth felt some sort of comfort with her. Drusilla treated her with care, something that was similar to the care given by a mother or elderly sister.

Spike threw himself at full throttle towards Angelus' idle form, causing the two to plummet down onto the hard ground.

At the same time, Drusilla welcomed Elizabeth with open arms, as though she had been expecting her, "Sweet dovey has flown home to her golden cage, has she?" she giggled, stroking Elizabeth's long locks. Elizabeth smiled as she hugged the woman back, feeling welcomed. It was so lovely to see a friendly face after the last few weeks with her sire.

"It is so good to see you again," she said with a smile.

Drusilla let her go and turned back to the attention of the two males, jumping and clapping excitedly as she giggled some more, "Watch, our daddies are going to have a bit of a rough and tumble." Sighing with a shake of her head, Elizabeth giggled a little at their expense, reminding her of quarreling little boys than men at times. Behind her childish eyes, there could be a tiny bit of concern found in them as she looked on.

With Angelus pinned underneath him, Spike lifted himself high enough to allow him to raise his fist for a punch, but not before Angelus threw him off, sending him sailing through the air some several metres away. Spike connected with the ground, bouncing and skidding a few more feet from where he had landed. This caused more excited squeals and claps from their avid spectator as Drusilla revelled in the violence. The smaller male growled and pushed himself off the ground, sporting some fresh scratches on his palms, but showing no signs of stopping.

"'This the greeting I get after not seeing you for so long, William?" Angelus laughed, watching his disgruntled progeny scramble up from the ground.

"You bloody wanker!" Spike growled at him. "You took Drusilla from me!" he glared. Looking to his side, Spike noticed the partial construction that lay unattended on the building next to him. Taking hold of one of the implanted rebars poking out of the unfinished cement walls, Spike yanked it out and brandished it towards the other male.

Angelus raised his brows at Spike's impromptu weapon, giving a surprised chuckle, "Has t'at upset you this much? But really, you and I both know t'at not to be true. Drusilla chose to follow me."

"Shut up!" Spike growled, swinging the rebar towards his unarmed opponent, only to have the other male duck and dodge his frantic thwarts with ease and agility. Elizabeth watched the brawling pair and looked on with intrigue as her sire brandished the rebar, reminding her of the candelabra in Paris.

"Took your time getting back to her, have you?" Angelus teased. "More than a fortnight. And to t'ink we left behind all those clues for you to find. We were wondering if you'd ever find your way. We had to decide whether to pack up and leave or stay. What have you been doing?" Angelus turned to glance at Elizabeth, causing her to look away as she brought her gaze to the ground. Angelus returned his focus back to Spike with a quirked brow, "Had your hands tied, did you?" he chuckled some more.

"You shut your filthy mouth, Angelus!" Spike spat, managing to hit him on the side.

"Oh," Angelus only managed to laugh harder, "that tickles!" With that comment, Spike whirled the rebar around his body to obtain more force and whacked his amused sire across the width of his chest. Angelus was thrown into the supplies of the construction, causing dust to billow up around him as he lay there stunned.

Spike was quick to follow as he strut over to him, "You left me in that house! They were going to burn me alive!" he approached Angelus and hovered over him, pinning him down with his legs as he raised the rebar above his head. "So you wouldn't blame me if I returned the favour!" he hissed.

Angelus lay there, gazing up at Spike and smirked, "Oh, Willy, you know you can't kill a vampire with metal. Have you been paying attention at all?" he chuckled. "But with one kick of my foot, I'm afraid I'll have my shirt at the cleaners for days trying to get out the dust and soot." Spike looked to him with confusion, until he glanced down to notice the broken and splintered piece of lumber within Angelus' grasp, enough to send him to an early death. Simultaneously, Elizabeth looked up at Angelus' remark to see the broken piece of lumber in his clutches. She looked on with wide eyes as she took a step forward. Spike swallowed and slowly lowered his arms and placed the rebar on the ground next to him, then reluctantly stood up. Elizabeth stopped in her tracks. Looking at Drusilla, she mustered a small smile and moved closer towards her. Spike glared from a distance as Angelus stood to dust himself off and discarded the piece of wood aside. "Come now, Willy boy," Angelus laughed and smacked Spike hard on the back, "we're reunited again, the whole lot of us. 'Tis cause for a happy celebration," he grinned. Spike was still silently fuming, especially now at being outwitted by the likes of Angelus and in front of the other two females. But he kept his mouth shut because he had finally returned to Drusilla.

Giggling and clapping with excitement, Drusilla looked to the two males, "Now, boys, kiss and make up."

Spike shrugged himself free from the grip of Angelus' hand, not bothering to exchange any more words with him as he walked towards Drusilla, the main reason he had bothered with their wild goose chase. She stepped forward as he approached, beaming at him like a proud mother.

"Drusilla," he breathed, the hard expression he wore melting away with the close proximity of his lover. Spike had many masks, mostly displaying the likes of a crazed maniac whilst his games of torture and killing; anger, as it was clear with Angelus, and at times, Elizabeth; and annoyance and amusement, which were also common to his progeny. But now, a much more vulnerable side of him peaked through at that moment. He smiled, filled with so much love and warmth, he appeared like a young man deeply in love; it was a smile saved only for his beloved, as he peered at the woman whom he pulled close to him in his embrace. He hugged her tightly with both arms wrapped around her thin frame, his chin resting gently on her shoulder as he remained motionless with his eyes closed, "Drusilla, I finally have you," he said quietly. He pulled back to look at her tenderly, placing one hand in hers and stroking her cheek with the other, then leaned in to kiss her on the mouth. "I've missed you, love," he said after their lips had parted, his brows drawing together lightly as he peered into her eyes. He moved in once more to kiss her gently on her forehead above her brow.

She smiled warmly all the while, loving that she was being doted on, "Oh, William, you're trembling."

"Ah," Spike glanced down at the hand that was held within hers, "all the excitement of having you back in my life, pet," he smiled at her, "and I've had a bit of coffee," he admitted sheepishly.

Drusilla giggled at that, "You've been kissing blueberries."

"I-" Spike paused before denying that fact, when he realised what she meant was that she knew about the kiss he had stolen from Elgardah. "I-it didn't mean anything, pet, I swear," he said in earnest, grasping both of her hands.

"You know I wouldn't speak ill of it," she replied, smiling, "I know where your heart lies," she whispered in his ear.

Elizabeth took a few steps away to allow them some room. It was so strange to see her sire like this, so vulnerable and in love with someone who loved him back. Looking at the scene, a memory came to light in her head. It was as if she were looking out of her bedroom window again as her brother happily chased a young woman in the gardens before stealing a kiss when he had caught her. It was as if the world were a play that she was simply watching. With a sigh, she was happy for them both, having something she probably would never have herself. It was then that her true nature lay bare- a timid girl sheltered by her life and thoughts as she took some comfort in people she called friends.

In his moment of bliss, Spike lifted Drusilla up in his arms and spun her around.

"Ah, young love," Angelus stepped up beside Elizabeth as he watched the two lovers, "such a pretty t'ing to witness." As she watched the couple, Elizabeth's smile turned into a little look of fear hidden behind her eyes as she looked up at Angelus. He turned to glance at her, "I know our last encounter was an unsavoury one," stating that his attempted rape something less traumatic than it was, "but you need to understand, it was all a show," he explained. "You've spent enough time alone with him to see what we've been dealing wit', how unreasonable and rash he can be. I needed to teach him a lesson, keep his irrational behaviour at bay. You understand, don't you, Elizabeth?" he asked her quietly, a look of what appeared to be hope on his face.

Cinching her brows together, she listened to his explanation. She looked up at him with a little apprehension, but her expression softened at the sight of his face. She did not answer, but settled in where she stood, her shoulders now more relaxed. He had scared and traumatised her and had emblazoned an imprinted memory that haunted her nightmares. It was something she could not soon forget, but she also realised it took harsh measures to cope with her sire's behavior.

"I-I think I do. I… was so frightened…. I thought you were…," she said in the hushed tone of an innocent girl that they had initially met.

"Why would I do a thing like that?" Angelus asked, raising a hand to stroke her cheek. Elizabeth's eyes cast down at that. He stopped midair, thinking better against it and lowered his hand, "It was your sire that wanted you cast out from the very beginning," he reminded her. Elizabeth raised her eyes back up when his hand never made contact and listened to his reasoning. "And it was I that protected you from him. I wouldn't turn against something I so fervently wanted to guard. Does that sound like something rational?" he reasoned.

Shaking her head, she spoke, "No… you… later told him he could kill me…," she said softly. But now it made some sense. Angelus had reigned in her sire's rash behaviour, causing him to think and protect her. It was as if it were set up, knowing that in the outcome, he would not hurt her.

Angelus shook his head and gave her a light smile, "He wouldn't have," he said with a sense of self-assured conviction. After some spinning and dancing on Spike's part, he ambled forward with Drusilla still in his arms, laughing and drunk with happiness. "Where are you two staying?" Angelus asked. "Now that we have our little family unit back together, it would make sense to have you two relocate and join us."

Spike glanced to Angelus, his eyes drawing a little more focus and seriousness, but the smile still clear on his lips, "An inn, close to the tracks."

"The tracks," Drusilla cooed. "But he marched in and saved the gagged girl with the tired ropes 'round her, right before she wore the marks through her pretty satin dress." The two males ignored her comment and continued on as though she hadn't said anything.

"I've managed to acquire a lovely little manor overlooking the bay," Angelus offered.

"Come, William," Drusilla caressed his hand against his cheek, "the sirens' call beckons to follow. You could find a proper home for all those fish swimming about your head," she looked up above his crown and ran her fingers through his curls, "have those flames smothered out and let them sleep in peace."

It wasn't something Spike even needed to consider as he would always follow where Drusilla chose to go, "All right, we'll come," he said, looking to Elizabeth. "We only have to fetch a couple things from there as it is." Spike actually had all his possessions on his person since he hadn't bothered to pack a bag; it was Elizabeth's belongings they would be returning to.

"Very well," Angelus nodded. "Let's go, then."

Spike moved forward as he carried Drusilla in his arms, as though she were his bride. "Have my legs broken this time?" she asked, glancing down at her dangling appendages.

"No, my sweet, I just can't bear to put you down," Spike replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek, "not as long as you're in my sights; I'll carry you wherever you please."

"Like a princess?" she smiled.

"Yes, like a princess," he replied, giving her a gentle smile. She squealed once more, holding him close as she pressed the side of her face against his. Angelus moved forward, allowing Spike a little leeway as he led them to their place of stay. Giggling at the sight of the lovers, Elizabeth walked in silence.

┼†‡

When they arrived at the inn, Elizabeth made sure she had all her possessions- clothes, her gloves, and her bible tucked away safely in the suitcase. Once done, they had a carriage take them to the estate where Angelus claimed that he and Drusilla were staying at.

Spike stepped out as soon as they had stopped and took hold of Drusilla's hand, resuming his duties to sweep her off her feet.

"Miss Edith is excited to meet you, William. She's heard so many kind things about you," Drusilla stroked his cheek and smiled at him.

"Who's 'Miss Edith', love?" he inquired, smiling back, not knowing whether she spoke of a human pet she had caged or an animal. Angelus led the way this time, up a gentle slope towards a mansion with columns flanking its façade and trees dotting the well-manicured lawn. Standing at the doorstep, they were graced by the breathtaking panoramic view of the coastline and Mediterranean Sea. The sound of the ebb and flow of the waves were hypnotic and lulling, and the smell of the salt air was refreshing. "You have picked a good spot," Spike commented to Angelus, his guard lowering as he set Drusilla down on the ground.

"It's past tea time and Miss Edith is expecting her cakes and tea. She will be cross!" Drusilla huffed, opening the door to run up the winding staircase.

Angelus smiled back in turn, "Have I ever not picked a good one?" he asked, laughing.

Spike nodded, giving a small chuckle in return, "Yes, true, you've always had impeccable taste," he admitted. Angelus walked past the threshold. Spike followed, but instead, smashed into something unseen and fell flat on his back. "What the bloody hell…!" he moaned.

Elizabeth was about to walk in behind him, but immediately stopped at the sight of this. She reached down in an attempt to help him up and looked back at the door with confusion.

Angelus turned from his spot inside the comforts of the brightly lit vestibule and looked down at an angry Spike, "Oh, I forgot to mention, the lord of the estate has gone away out of town."

Spike scrambled up and smashed his fists at what was clearly the open doorway, but they resounded and struck at some invisible force field that kept him from entering, "You knew! You knew and you did this on purpose!" he growled.

Angelus chuckled, "It merely slipped my mind," he took a step forward to face Spike, "I'm so used to getting things the old fashioned way, that when I'm actually invited to stay as a guest, the idea of it escapes my mind," he smiled.

"You're a filthy liar, Angelus!" Spike snarled, slapping his hands down on a wall of air.

"Why would I be lying? Clearly I'm in here, and you're stuck out there. But don't worry, you'll be safe inside once the lord of the manor returns. Shan't be more than another day, I presume. Had to deliver some documents personally, just a couple towns over," he tipped his head a bit as he looked at Spike's face. "I'm not going to just cast you aside, William; you won't be stuck outside in the glare of the Mediterranean sun, I assure you. I'll send for a servant to open the guesthouse in the backyard. Rest assured, you'll be safe and well," he smiled.

"Damn you, Angelus!" Spike growled as Angelus turned away and followed the path that Drusilla had previously taken. "Don't you walk away from me! Hey- hey!" he called, now sounding a little desperate. "Drusilla! Drusilla doesn't know! Call her down for me! Angelus!" he wailed from the door, his palms pressed flat against the open space of the doorway. "I feel like a bloody pantomime out here, trapped inside a bloody box," he moaned, pressing his hands and face flat against… nothing. Spike spun around to face Elizabeth as he leaned against open space, his arms folded across his chest, "Shoulda ploughed that rebar through his chest when I had the chance," he grumbled. Elizabeth watched the scene unfold with a curious expression, her eyes fixed on the door. Walking up to it, she traced her fingers down the invisible wall.

"Curious…," she said to herself. Whatever was at work there, it barred them from getting inside.

"One of the many little woes of being a vampire," Spike looked to her as he rolled his eyes. "You'd think with the likes of being immortal, you'd bloody have freewill to go wherever you bloody please, but no," he shook his head and pushed off the invisible wall and stood up, taking a step out as he faced the view of the waters, "you can't enter someone's home without being bloody invited in first." He glanced to look at her, "T'was a lucky thing to have Georgie and his sister do that for us when we had visited at that time," he explained, "or we'd have faced the same results as now. And I'm sure Georgie would be locked away in some dark room in a lovely laced jacket, too," he shrugged his shoulders.

Looking at her aggravated sire, Elizabeth gave him a timid and reassuring smile, "At least we are here and have a place to stay for the time being, hmm?" she said, at an attempt at trying to make him feel better, or at least less homicidal.

Just as Angelus had promised them, a maid in her forties appeared at the door with a key in hand, "You must be Monsieur Angelus' guests," she smiled, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. "Please, follow me," she said with a warm voice in French. Spike sighed and did nothing else but follow as she led them around to the back of the estate. The guesthouse might have been considerably smaller compared to the likes of the main homestead, but it was still impressive for a place used only for guests. "We'll have servants come first thing in the morning to call you for breakfast," she said, about to take her leave.

Stopping her, Spike spoke, "Best not to…," he began, scrounging for the right words. "We've had a long night. Come bring brunch here later in the afternoon," he said instead.

"Yes, of course," she nodded. "Good evening, Monsieur, Mademoiselle," she smiled and shut the door behind her to leave them in peace. Spike peaked out the window as he watched the woman leave, noting that they still had a very nice view of the wraparound panoramic of the waters, and also of the sights overlooking the city. It was actually nicer than the front view from the front door.

He turned around and looked about him, "Just like old times," he said to Elizabeth, giving her a small smile, "just you and I." He sighed softly as he cast his gaze down, walking forward to explore the rooms. He had finally found Drusilla, with the hopes of finally laying in her arms and sharing his bed with her, only to have that dream dashed once more, this time with her just yards away from reach. It was a comfort to know that he at least knew where she was, but he couldn't help but feel anxious, fearing Angelus would snatch her away as soon as he closed his eyes to rest. Or worse, knowing that the two of them were alone, that they might engage in other forms of play. Spike shook his head and cast that image aside, "Be glad we don't have to share a room and bed," he glanced back at her, "I'm sure you'll find a room far away from mine, if it pleases you," he teased.

Elizabeth smiled back at him, taking in the lovely surroundings of the guest home. The view was breathtaking, better than anything she knew at her old home. With a light laugh, she did count her blessings that she had her own room to settle in without worry or annoyance from her sire and vice versa. "This is such a lovely place," she said quietly, in awe.

"When you stick around with Angelus long enough, you'll see how many places tend to look like this," Spike commented, glancing at some of the hung artwork on the walls. Elizabeth nodded. He stepped farther away from her, letting his fingers slide along the walls as he walked down the halls towards the bedrooms. He chose one that still faced out towards the coastline, opening up to double doors onto a terrace and the view of the back of the mansion. It was lovely, but a lonely reminder that Drusilla was perched up in her room, possibly with the likes of Angelus lurking around her door.

Turning to one of the bedrooms, Elizabeth paused at the doorway before entering, "Goodnight, then," she said softly. It was nice being in a warm bed by herself for once. Lying on her back, she smiled in relaxation as her eyes drifted shut. It had certainly been a hectic few days up until then.


	21. Day 21: The Lost Leader PART I

Spike awoke to the sound of the clatter of cutlery and dinnerware being placed on the dining table as the maid brought in the brunch he had requested. Considering it was only early afternoon, there was still daylight outside, something that Spike took with some measured precaution by ensuring that the curtains had been closed within his room. He treaded carefully down the hall into the dining area where it was flanked with large windows. Standing at the doorway, he quietly watched the maid busy herself as she set up the table.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, making his presence known. Some silverware dropped from her grasp.

"Ah, monsieur," she turned to Spike and smiled with rosy embarrassment, "we have your brunch as you requested." She was a different maid from last night. This one was young, in her twenties, he assumed.

"Yes, thank you, love. Do you mind shutting the curtains. Had a late night," he explained, putting his hand to his head as though he were hungover from drinking.

"Oh, of course," she nodded and scurried to the large windows, swiftly shutting them as she yanked on the thick cloth. There was some residual light that peeked in through the other rooms, but it wasn't enough to burn a vampire; it was adequate lighting for that setting. Spike finally stepped out after she had finished and pulled a seat out to sit. "Is there anything else you need, monsieur?" she inquired, looking to him.

"Um, yes," he glanced up at her. "Are the other guests awake? Drusilla?" he inquired.

"Ah, oui, monsieur," she nodded. "Shall I call for her?"

"Would you? Tell her that I request her presence. I wish for her to join me." The maid nodded and took her leave. Spike smiled as he fixed himself a cup of tea, taking a sip of the steaming beverage as he hoped his paramour would later come to join him.

┼†‡

Elizabeth picked her favourite dress to wear that day- a simple blue day dress with a white sash- one that she had brought with her from London. With her curls pulled back in a ribbon, she finally decided to embark on an explorative walk through the guesthouse. Finding herself tracing her fingers on some of the lovely architecture and artwork, Elizabeth followed the trail of hung portraits until she came upon the the dining room where her sire was seated drinking tea.

She knocked softly on the doorframe as she smiled to him, "I am probably not who you are expecting, but may I join you?" she asked politely.

Spike jumped from his chair and spun around, only to see that it was Elizabeth that stood at the doorway instead of his wicked princess, "Oh, it's only you," he said with dismay, turning back around and returning to his seat. "If you wish," he said absently, taking a sip of his tea. Elizabeth walked into the dining room and looked at the different foods on the table. Finding one of the savoury breads interesting, she cut a small portion and poured herself a cup of tea. Spike hoped the maid was quick to deliver his message and that Drusilla would take to it, being that Angelus didn't keep her from him. He gave a little sigh as he picked a small sample of one of the baked breads and let it crumble around his fingers as he idly played with it. Nibbling at it a bit, his eyes remained cast down at his plate as he sighed once more.

Elizabeth sat down, a few chairs away to her sire's right as she glanced up from her cup, "Well, the quest is over, at least. We have come a long way, but we are here all the same," she said softly. Picking up on his absent expression, she wondered what it was like to love someone so much, that even being on the same property was not enough if their love were not in their very presence.

Not looking up, Spike nodded in agreement, "Yes, 'tis a good thing," he exhaled softly from his nose, feeling anxious all the same, despite knowing Drusilla wasn't far from him. It was just that he had hardly spent any time with her, now that they had reunited. This time, with the sound of soft heels on the hard polished floor, Spike glanced at the entrance to the image of Drusilla stepping forward in a black hooded cape and black gloves to match.

"William," she smiled brightly, sweeping her large hood back to fall softly about her shoulders.

Spike immediately stood, causing the chair to screech loudly from his sudden reaction as he moved swiftly, almost running over to her to sweep her up into his arms once more, "Drusilla, darling, you've come," he beamed, lifting her up high above him.

"Of course, my love," she playfully batted him with the black parasol within her grasp. It was in that instant that they actually appeared like a pair of normal lovers; the distinction was clear within both of their eyes- not vampires, nor an individual afflicted with the position of insanity- just a man and woman who held a resolution of strong affections for each other. He lowered her gently, leaning down to give her a small lingering kiss on the lips, then bent to take her hand to kiss as well. Just as any woman would take to such gestures of affection, Drusilla was smitten, smiling as Spike showered her with these acts of flattery. Elizabeth sighed softly as she smiled at the pair before returning to her tea.

"Were you hurt with the effects of the sunlight?" his eyes swept over her form, a look of worry on his face as his hand remained in hers; he led her to the table.

"I'm fine, silly goose," she replied, glancing about the room in wonder, "the black shade clung to my skin like it does within my heart," she said as Spike pulled out a chair for her to sit. She tugged at the ribbon below her chin and cast the cape aside to the empty seat beside her, then set her parasol and gloves down with it. Looking to Elizabeth to her right, she spoke: "Hello, again, lovey," she smiled brightly. "Remember not to stray too long in the garden, lest you wish to feed the worms," she warned, wagging a finger at her.

Spike sat to her left and cupped her hand within both of his, kissing it as he stared at her with lovestruck eyes, "Care for some tea, love?"

She turned to look at him, almost as though lost, "Tea?"

"With milk and sugar?" Spike continued, pouring her a cup.

"Yes," she glanced down at the hot beverage in front of her, her eyes widening slightly, unsure of what it was as if she had just discovered it. "Miss Edith prefers her tea that way," her voice was distant.

Spike stirred the sugar in for her and set the spoon aside, "Oh, that reminds me," he looked to her and smiled, "I have something for you. Let me fetch it. I shan't be long," he stood from his chair and left the girls alone. Elizabeth sipped her tea with a knowing smile before her grandsire addressed her once more.

"Daddy has softened to his new lamb," Drusilla smiled as she turned to Elizabeth, her choice of words a little confusing.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked with a gentle smile, feeling more comfortable around her.

"He's changed his tune," Drusilla swept her hand above in front of her as she stared off into the distance, then glanced down to smile at Elizabeth, "picked a different song to play altogether," she giggled a bit before continuing. Elizabeth tilted her head to the side as she stared up at her with a sweet smile. "Wants to make his sweet lamb feel at home, it seems." Drusilla paused, turning serious suddenly, "Do you like your new home, love? It's important that you do, or Daddy will be oh so disappointed," she sang, shifting her body in a swaying motion as she lowered her head to glance down, as though to reflect the disappointment she had voiced.

The smile faded from Elizabeth's face, "I-I do. I love it here. It reminds me of ho- my… old home," she said with a curt nod as though not to upset her. Whether Drusilla spoke of her sire, William, or Angelus, was hard for Elizabeth to discern, for it sometimes changed.

Drusilla peered at her under long lashes, her head still canted to the side as a slow smile spread across her face, "He shall be pleased to learn this." Elizabeth smiled in response and opened her mouth to speak, but instead, glanced to where her sire made his reappearance.

"Did I miss much?" Spike quipped, returning to the room. Not having been gone for two minutes, he noticed the girls bonding and was curious with what they had to say to each other.

"Nothing at all, my sweet," Drusilla said, spinning in her chair to face him. "What is it? What have you got for me?" she asked excitedly, clapping her hands together.

Spike resumed his seat once more and pulled his hands from behind his back to reveal the small, wrapped parcel, "Open it and you shall find out," he smiled at her. The female vampire could hardly contain her glee as she tore into the paper packaging to find a velvet box contained within. Then without much pause, she opened it to discover the filigree bracelet nestled atop a silk cushion.

"Oh, William," she gasped, her eyes wide, "it's lovely," she breathed, a gentle smile on her lips.

"Do you like it? Found it in a quaint shop in Frankfurt," he said, not mentioning that Elizabeth had been the one to spot it. Details. "Shall I help you with it?" he inquired. She nodded and lifted her left arm out, watching as Spike wrapped it around her thin wrist and latched it in place. She giggled as she jingled her hand about, watching the metal catch light and glimmer. Spike smiled as he watched her being so entertained with her new gift; this was something he had missed dearly about her- her innocent ways and crazy antics.

Returning to her food, Elizabeth watched the scene unfold out of the corner of her eye. It made her happy to see how in love they were, but she couldn't help but let out a sigh, similar to the one she would give when she was watching her brother and his ladylove from her window. Realising the sun was starting to set, she stood from her seat and walked out of the room to fetch her gloves and the two books she had in her possession- the bible from London, and _Romeo and Juliet_ , bought from the bookshop in Frankfurt. The lovers had barely noticed their junior had stepped out to leave them for privacy, but it didn't make much of a difference, for Elizabeth was often as quiet as a mouse as Spike had dubbed her.

With the sun fast disappearing from the sky, Elizabeth made headway out and found a garden bench that overlooked the water. She sat comfortably as she opened her bible and began to read in silence. Not only did the solitude comfort her, but it reminded her of home.

The young vampire's silence was soon broken as loud crashes emanated from inside the guesthouse. Worried, Elizabeth stood to her feet and quickly walked back towards it. The sounds stopped and were shortly followed by laughter from both Drusilla and Spike, then silence. And then more crashes. Then some loud moaning. With reddened cheeks, Elizabeth retreated away from the door and returned to the garden with quickened step, and her head bowed out of embarrassment. Sitting alone by the fountain, she opened her bible once more with a sigh of relief.

After an hour or so had passed, there were still no signs of the vampires leaving the guesthouse. Fortunately for Elizabeth, and others that happened to work around the vicinity, there were no longer sounds- vocally or otherwise- coming from inside.

┼†‡

Two hours or so later, the lovers finally withdrew from the cozy comforts of their lodgings. Spike had his arm wrapped snug around Drusilla's lower back with his hand resting comfortably at her waist, and Drusilla leaned into him with both arms also encircled around his form. They gazed at each other as they trotted along, laughing, and a glimmer in their eyes as though they shared a secret only they knew. His shirt was rumpled and untucked, with his coat draped loosely open. Drusilla somehow appeared to manage to keep herself presentable, despite what forms of physical activity they had partaken in, evident with their previous vocal performances. Her dress was the colour of red wine, ruffled to allow for a fuller blooming bell affect, and cinched appropriately at her waist. Her hair was pulled back away from her face, falling into large ringlets down over her shoulders. She wore the bracelet that Spike had given her, but her other effects- gloves, cape, and parasol- were left abandoned inside the house.

Passing the garden, Spike glanced up to notice that Elizabeth had assumed a spot there and was reading. He had almost passed by, thinking she was a garden statue, but smelling her scent alerted him that it was indeed her. Elizabeth was enrapt with her bible for a while before she prayed in silence. She set it aside and picked up her Shakespeare as she continued to read under the pale moonlight.

"Little dovey has found a place to find her worms, has she?" Drusilla spoke first, her way of greeting to her grandprogeny.

Elizabeth looked up and nodded as she giggled softly, "This is such a lovely garden; 'tis a perfect place to read," she held her book up for Drusilla to see.

"You've got all baubles of stories filled inside that head of yours," Drusilla smiled with a pleased look on her face. "Perhaps you could read Grandmother a bedtime story sometime?" she requested innocently, referring herself as the elder woman.

Elizabeth giggled once more and nodded, "I would love to."

"You're hardly a grandmother," Spike said to Drusilla as he pulled her closer.

"But I am," Drusilla pouted, "and you her daddy. Aren't you, Daddy?" she laughed, clawing at his chest. Elizabeth cast her eyes down at this.

"Ugh," Spike rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, "please don't say that." He did not like to be reminded about that accidental siring.

Drusilla turned back once more to face Elizabeth, "We're going out to find some supper. Would you like to join us?" she asked in her soft song-like trill.

"We've worked up quite an appetite," Spike added, bending low to Drusilla's collar as he peaked at Elizabeth from an angle, a mischief glint in his eye. Oh, how the male vampire liked to tease her.

"Oh, no… thank you," she said with a little hitch in her voice as she caught the glint in her sire's eye. "I will manage. Thank you for thinking of me," she said to Drusilla as she flipped a page in her book.

"Come, love, don't bother, she doesn't like to watch us kill. It's against her 'morals'," Spike rolled his eyes.

"Shush," Drusilla pressed a finger to his lips. Turning her head to look at Elizabeth, she smiled, "I know what she likes. Let Grandmother show you where you can find the tasty morsels when you're hungry enough," she giggled. Elizabeth looked down with the smallest of smiles now as Drusilla spoke to her. What she liked were horrible men, men that deserved what they would get. Spike squinted his eyes almost suspiciously at the two women. He knew that Drusilla knew more about Elizabeth, considering her gift of sight, but to learn that Elizabeth had some form of enjoyment during her feeding sounded bizarre. Shaking her mind free from those thoughts, Elizabeth turned once again to her book.

"Shall we then, pet?" Spike asked, tugging her gently away. Drusilla sighed happily and rested her head on his chest and nodded as the two strolled off together to find some game and sport. After the sound of their laughter had died down and the air was still and quiet, the girl might have believed she was alone once more, but then another voice spoke:

"A lovely night out, isn't it?" It was Angelus. He walked towards her slowly, hands clasped behind his back, dressed in a pressed dark suit ensemble with matching ascot; he was the polar opposite to what Spike had presented himself that evening. Startled, Elizabeth glanced up from her book.

She sighed a little bit in relief, "It is. This garden is so beautiful. I was just telling Drusilla it was the perfect place to read."

Angelus nodded and glanced about him, "May I?" he asked. Elizabeth smiled at him and made room for him on the bench. Angelus sat down next to her and undid a button with one hand to allow for his coat to rest more comfortably in that position. "I had one like this, just as magnificent if not more, back at my home in Ireland," he smiled as he looked to her. "Or maybe it is just the pleasant memories that make me t'ink it was," he chuckled. "I'd like to t'ink so at least."

"The one we had at the manor was so beautiful…. I would spend my days taking care of the flowers. It was so relaxing to tend to the roses and read," she said with a soft sigh as she closed her book and placed it on her lap.

"My mother tended to the gardens often. Her favourite were these lilac coloured orchids," he smiled, sharing a bit of his past life with her as well. "When I was teaching my little sister to read, we'd take to the garden out in the sunshine with a small picnic," he laughed fondly as he glanced down, almost a little saddened. Elizabeth tilted her head as she listened. It comforted her knowing she was not the only one that sometimes pined for her old life. "She was the sweetest girl, the purest soul I'd ever known. You remind me of her," Angelus glanced up to look at her. This caused Elizabeth to smile as she looked back at him. "Ah, it's not like for me t'share such sentimental tales," he waved it off. "I noticed you not taking up on their offer," he referred to Drusilla's invitation to their hunt. "Does it still seem such a foreign act to you? It has been a few weeks now," he inquired, not forcefully or rudely, but merely stating something that was observable. "Forgive me if I'm being rude," he added.

"Oh, no, not at all…. I still feel… somewhat guilty. I was almost intruding on their personal space…," she said softly as she looked at him. "I wanted to stay here and read. We have been travelling so much lately… I don't really want to go anywhere just yet," she said as she glanced around her with her hand on her book.

"Their space'…?" Angelus repeated, tilting his head curiously. "Ah, yes," he acknowledged with raised brows, "I do believe the two lovers need some space to be… reacquainted with one another; it has been so long since their last… meeting," he said, carefully replacing certain key words with euphemisms. Elizabeth blushed a little at this. "I fear you may tire travelling with us," he chuckled, "as that is something we often do. Especially now that William has joined our brood," he sighed lightly, a flitter of a weary expression making an appearance on his face, "but we cope. When we find somewhere suitable that we like, we do, however, stay as long as we are able to."

"I hope that I won't… I do not have anyone else any more…," she said in a slightly saddened tone.

He turned to look at her, "It must have been an extremely tiresome journey for you to find your way back to us," he smiled.

"It was. There were some adventures, but close to the end of our arrival here, it had grown to be so hectic and taxing…. All I wish is to rest for a little while."

"Forgive me if I am intruding on you. If you wish to be alone, I'll leave," Angelus began to stand.

Elizabeth lifted her head, "Oh, no, you are no intrusion at all. You can stay if you like," she said in a kind and sweet tone, not wanting to turn away kind company.

Angelus smiled down at her and resumed his spot, "Yes, I would very much like that," he replied. "I do enjoy your company. Finally someone I can carry a proper conversation with," he chuckled. Considering the likes of Drusilla's psychobabble and Spike's poor manners and ill temperament, the two seated at the garden bench were the most civilised. "Ah, but losing the likes of one family, you've gained another, haven't you?" Angelus inquired, furrowing and raising his brows just a bit.

"I suppose I have," she said with a small smile as she looked at him.

He patted her on the hands as a father might do, "I would like to learn more about you, Elizabeth. Reading appears to be a pastime you favour, but what other things quell your boredom? Perhaps we could find other t'ings to do within the city that might take to your interest." Elizabeth looked at her hands, taking the gesture as one of comfort, something her father and brother used to do.

"I love the theatre…, walking… I always liked taking walks. I also… like to dance," she shyly admitted with a blush of embarrassment at such a childish confession.

"I adore the theatre," Angelus brightened that she took to that as well. "We shall see what's playing at the Théâtre Municipal and attend a show," he suggested. "The Promenade des Anglais is just below us; this estate overlooks that area, you can see it from here," he mentioned of the walkway situated next to the beach. "We can have as many walks there as you wish. The scenery and atmosphere is very peaceful," he smiled. At these suggestions, Elizabeth smiled up at him.

"I would like that very much," she said with an eager nod. It was nice to find someone with whom she could have an intelligent conversation with. She had had a few with her sire, but his true unruly nature would always return soon after.

"'Dancing'?" he canted his head lightly. "I do believe we took you to a ball on your first night out, but you did not partake in any dancing," he recalled, a rather astute observation on his part.

She shook her head, "I have never danced at a par-"

"If we find a ball to attend to, I shall have to have the first dance. Will you promise me that?" he chuckled lightly, preemptively cutting her sentence short. Looking down a bit, Elizabeth laced her fingers together before giving a little nod in return. "But, 'never'?" Angelus looked to her in shock. Elizabeth shook her head and giggled a bit as she looked back at him. "Well, my dear girl, that shall change soon enough. I'll be sure to have many dances with you at the ball, your feet shall be protesting," he smiled kindly, pleased that she would agree to be his first pick. He stood then, "Excuse me, dear, but I'll be taking my leave now. Unfortunately, I do need to feed," he placed a hand to his stomach and glanced down to the ground, almost as though there were some reluctance to his words. He gave her a playful bow and smile, then stepped away, just as quietly as he had entered.

Elizabeth giggled and dipped her head back at him before opening her book to return to her reading.

┼†‡

The infamous pair had been out gallivanting for the past few hours in the warmer climates of Southern France, and they'd have been out longer, had they not the urge to take to softer comforts again. Drusilla scurried ahead into the gardens, causing Spike to follow quickly in his pursuits.

" _Run and catch, run and catch, the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch,"_ she sang forebodingly before a high pitched giggle rolled out of her throat. Spike captured her from behind by the waist as they both tumbled down in one of flowerbeds.

"Not a blackberry patch, love, but would perennials suffice?" he grinned at her as he hovered above, taking one of her arms back to stretch past her head before doing the same to the other.

"The hungry wolf has caught its prey, grrr!" she growled, imitating the sound of a dog quite well.

"Yes, and he hungers for his poor," his bent low to kiss at her neck, "little," he turned to kiss the other side, "lamb," his head lowered to kiss at her chest. Drusilla sighed and turned her head to glance past the gardens, noticing the figure of Elizabeth still roaming that outdoor area.

"Little kitten has an audience," Drusilla giggled.

Spike peered up to see his progeny's form, "Oh, bloody hell," he said with annoyance, "does she have to be everywhere to spoil everything for me?"

Drusilla stretched from the ground and rolled onto her stomach, her hair whipping into Spike's face, "Have you caught any worms yet, dovey?" she called out to Elizabeth in a loud whisper with a hand cupped around her mouth.

"Drusilla," Spike looked down at her, his brows drawn together and his lips puckered forward in a pout; his voice took the tone of a mewling whine, now being denied any further advances and being totally ignored.

┼†‡

Elizabeth had taken to strolling the gardens after her pleasant conversation with Angelus had left her in higher spirits that night. Noticing some flowers that were still in bloom in that warmer climate, she picked an unidentifiable white flower and held it in her hands with her books as she continued with her walk around the garden. Hearing a little commotion, she began to walk towards it, only to hear Drusilla call out to her.

She giggled as she walked towards her voice, "I have not, but I…," her eyes fell to the two in the flowerbed. Clearly she was interrupting something. At a loss for words, she blushed at the scene and quickly turned away, retreating at the pace of a light jog. It would be wise for her to leave them alone and not stop until she was well out of earshot, she thought.

"Poor, nervous bird has fluttered away from the sight of the puss," Drusilla pouted and turned back over onto her back. "No need to be frightened when you have yet to be touched, pet," she cupped a hand by her mouth, whispering loudly to the air above her before resting it back by the side of her head. "Such a feeling fills me up with so much… warmth," the female squirmed on the ground, rolling her head as she searched for the right word.

"Yes, it does," Spike said huskily, moving back down to kiss her when she rolled to her side with a loud and gleeful gasp.

"Daddy!" she cried.

"No, Drusilla," Spike rested his hand on the ground to push himself up, looking to her with disappointment, "it's _Spike_ , your _William_."

Drusilla bounded up from the ground, lifting her skirts as she moved away from him, "Daddy has returned with his new puppet."

Spike glanced at Drusilla from behind, still on hands on knees, having now been denied by her twice, "Angelus?" he asked.

"Yes, Angelus, he bears gifts," she spun on her heel to face him. "And one you'll especially like, love," she giggled and shrugged a flirtatious shoulder at him, "an invitation."

Spike rose from the ground and stepped towards her, a smile finally breaking across his face, "The bloody lord has finally returned?"

"Yes, my sweet," Drusilla replied in her slow, coaxing tone, brushing a palm over his cheek.

"This _is_ bloody good news," Spike began to giggle.

┼†‡

Still flustered and embarrassed, Elizabeth continued to run aimlessly across the estate until she came to the garden's edge where she caught sight of a carriage arrive at the front door. The lord of the manor, she assumed, stepped out and was greeted by Angelus. The two men began to walk slowly towards the mansion, then stopped short by the steps for idle chitchat.

Holding her books and flower close to her chest, Elizabeth tentatively walked up to them with a shy smile, "Hello," she said softly with her head slightly lowered. It was evident that the past few weeks in her sire's company has not robbed her of the training her family had given her.

Being suddenly interrupted by the soft peep of a female voice, the lord turned to face her, " _Una bella donna…!_ " his brows raised in surprise. He was a man who appeared to be in his mid thirties to early forties; his brown hair was streaked with silver strands, and there was a slight wave to it that was cut appropriately short; and he had dark and expressive eyes with equally thick and expressive brows. He appeared to be at an equal height to Spike, and a body type that was of medium build. His skin had more of an olive complexion to it, seeing that he lived in an area of the Mediterranean, but it was also because he was actually of Italian descent. Dressed properly as any man of his calibre and wealth would- a pressed suit of black, brocade vest of green, white tie, dark grey evening coat, gloves with cane in hand, and topped off with a hat- his appearance on dress alone was intimidating. The man turned to Angelus and shared some rapid words in Italian as Angelus glanced to Elizabeth briefly before responding to him.

The man turned to Elizabeth once more, "Eh, exscusee," he began, "my Engalish not so good. Italiano and Franch? Bravo!" he gestured with a wag of his hand with his thumb and forefinger touching together into a circle as he winked. Elizabeth smiled politely at the man, only to glance down shyly since she did not know Italian. Though, her quick bout of apprehension was replaced with a bright smile when she heard that he could speak French. "My name, Maurizio di Bazza," he said, putting a hand to his chest and giving her a charming smile. He moved forward to plant a brief kiss by her cheek before pulling back to do the same on the other, then took her hand and planted a third. Not being used to this form of greeting, Elizabeth blushed. Angelus moved forward then, introducing her to him in Italian as her name came up at the end. "Elizabeth," Maurizio smiled at her and clung to her hand, " _enchanté._ "

"A pleasure to meet you Mr. di Bazza. You have such a lovely home," she smiled as she replied in French.

"A woman who is beautiful and who can speak French just as equally well!" Maurizio proclaimed, quickly switching to the language they could both communicate in. He flashed a smile of bright teeth, "Thank you, but have you had the pleasure of having a tour inside, yet?" he asked, offering his arm for her to take so that they could enter his home together.

"Thank you, Mr. di Bazza," she said kindly as she smiled up at him with a slight tilt of her head. "I do not believe I have," she said as she took his arm and walked inside with their host.

Angelus followed behind them slowly, "They were waiting for your personal invitation," he interjected, also switching to French.

"Oh?" Maurizio glanced over his shoulder at his friend. "If you had told me sooner about them coming, Angelus, I would have certainly allowed them to. A friend of yours is a friend of mine."

"It is about etiquette, my dear friend," Angelus replied, giving him a dashing smile and chuckle.

Maurizio patted the top of Elizabeth's hand that was entwined around his arm, "He likes to give me news at the very last minute so I don't seem rude when I can't turn guests away," he gave her a playful wink.

Turning to Angelus and Maurizio, she laughed a bit at their playful banter, "Well, you are a very gracious host," she said sweetly. The trio hadn't ventured far into the home, just barely stepping past the vestibule until a rather loud and brash voice called from the entranceway.

"Bloody hell, I can finally enter!" Spike cackled as the door was pushed open. Elizabeth turned on her spot upon hearing her sire. He picked Drusilla up and spun her around as he shuffled in. The two males turned around to face the spectacle, and Maurizio looked at them apprehensively, recognising Drusilla who was giggling at Spike.

"Is that not Drusilla, your lover, Angelus?" he glanced over at the other male. Elizabeth looked at her sire out of the corner of her eye with a brief look of concern.

"Yes, that is Drusilla," Angelus replied, stepping forward, "but you're mistaken about her being my lover."

"Oh, excuse me," Maurizio said, giving Elizabeth a gentle squeeze on the hand and an apologetic smile. Elizabeth lowered her head and shook it.

Angelus chuckled at that, "No, she is not my lover, either." He took another step into the vestibule and cleared his throat loudly, "William, Drusilla."

Spike stopped with Drusilla outstretched in his arms high above him as they both turned to look at him, "Looks like I finally got in, eh, _mate?_ " Spike said the last word with a little more emphasis, still feeling that Angelus had deliberately humiliated him and kept Drusilla from him the night before.

"I did mention that you would be allowed in eventually, did I not?" his sire pointed that out.

Spike let Drusilla slide down from his arms and glanced down to the floor stubbornly like a disobedient child, "You did, but-"

"And the lord of the estate has returned and given you a proper invitation," Angelus interrupted him. "Be grateful for once, _Spike_." Spike glanced up as his sire finally called him by the new name he had wanted to be known by, but it was used in a mocking tone. Spike stared after him with a defiant look on his face. "Let me introduce to you," Angelus turned and gestured a hand towards the human male, "Maurizio di Bazza," he said in English. Spike reluctantly moved forward as Drusilla twined her arms around his and guided him forward. Angelus then switched to Italian and spoke to the other, and Spike only caught his name. The man called 'Maurizio' glanced to Spike, a forced smile and a hand offered forward for him to shake. Drusilla looked up to Spike expectantly, giving him an encouraging smile.

"Charmed," Spike said dryly, placing his hand in his and giving it a slow shake.

The elder maid stepped out into the vestibule to greet them, "Monsieur di Bazza, forgive me, I did not hear you enter," she said, moving forward to take his cane and hat.

"It is all right, Claudette," he waved it off. Spike watched as the new stranger spoke, idly sizing him up, and finding it a bit of a relief that he could at least understand some of the French he spoke.

"We are just about finished with preparing dinner. Would you like for us to prepare a bath for you now, or after your supper?"

"Dinner first; we have guests," he instructed.

"Oui, Monsieur," she nodded. "It will be another hour, Monsieur," she said before taking off.

"Well," Maurizio turned around to face his guests, his hands clasping in front of him, "if you don't mind, I shall continue with the tour- if you're all right with seeing it again, Angelus," he glanced over at him.

"Go right ahead, I don't mind," Angelus gave a small smile, sweeping his hands behind him as he followed in tow.

The main floor consisted of the vestibule, a large dining room, parlour, drawing room, conservatory, a large kitchen, restroom, a vast library, and several piazzas flanking it.

At the entrance of the library, Spike glanced around at the dark and dusty stacks, thinking Elizabeth would take to hiding there for most of their stay, now that the host had revealed this hidden gem.

"Oh, my…," Elizabeth breathed as she looked at the shelves lined with ladders that almost went to the ceiling. With a smile so wide and her hands covering her mouth in awe, she beamed, "There must be a thousand books here," she said happily. It took a little strength for her to leave the library and finish the tour.

On the second floor were the guest bedrooms, private bathrooms, with another smaller library, and a veranda. Finally, on the third floor was the man's own study, his master bedroom and bath, a billiard room, gymnasium, and more bedrooms, which would one would assume were reserved for his own family- if he had one.

Descending the stairs back to the main level, Maurizio cheerfully spoke, "We do have one more area to visit- the cellar. That is where I keep my own private collection of wines. We'll pick a couple specifically for this occasion," he smiled.

"Yes, let's," Spike echoed cheerfully, glad to know where the man kept his stash of alcohol. Maurizio pulled a couple bottles of red wines, a white wine, and a sweeter dessert wine. Happy with the selection, and with some quiet feedback from his close friend, Angelus, they returned back up to the dining room where the food was being served on the table.

"Please, everyone, have a seat." Maurizio pulled out a chair for Elizabeth, one that was to his left, where he would be seated at the head. Angelus sat next to her and across from Drusilla; Spike naturally took a seat next to Drusilla, and was across from Elizabeth. At such a warm gathering, with good food and wine being poured, the host chattered amicably with Angelus and Elizabeth, whereas Spike and Drusilla seemed to be off in their own secluded world. "How do you like the food and drink, Elizabeth?" Maurizio asked with a twinkle in his eye. There was an assortment of roasted vegetables, and a couple of proteins- one a rack of lamb, and the other some grilled fish that was caught fresh that day. The wine had an earthy and fruity note to it, and subtle hints of floral to a wine connoisseur.

Elizabeth sipped at her wine, "It is delicious. The fish is possibly the best I have ever had," she said with a content look on her face.

"It's sea bream, just caught this morning. Our waters are teeming with it," Maurizio smiled at her as he chewed a morsel of his food, very pleased that she was content with what he served her. Elizabeth raised her brows with a smile, always one to love learning new things. A sudden clatter across the table caused the host to break his gaze from Elizabeth. Drusilla had let her fork and knife drop onto her plate unceremoniously, allowing for a splatter of gravy to cascade around her plate and onto the cream coloured lace placemat. Holding a skewered piece of lamb with his fork, Spike giggled as he held it in front of Drusilla's mouth for her to take, only to pull it slightly away each time she'd move forward to bite at it. Drusilla growled as she moved in, only to consistently snap at air. Looking at the lovers out the corner of her eye, Elizabeth shook her head at their display and continued to eat her supper. Maurizio cleared his throat a bit at their strange and vulgar behaviour, a little put off by their rude dinner etiquette. Angelus played the role of civil guest very well, making sure to cut his food into manageable bites, chewing well, and taking sips of wine now and again. He never arose any suspicions of his vampire nature- not having a need for the extravagant meal and drink- and would rather have had blood.

"I apologise on their behalf, Maurizio," Angelus said, placing his glass down after taking a small sip of wine. "Drusilla, my dear," he spoke gently as Drusilla perked up to look at him from across the table, "you must behave when we're in front of Maurizio; we are his guests."

"But is he not your puppet?" she protested.

"He is our gracious host. Now, be a good pet and take to your supper."

"But I am not a doll," she pouted and then straightened her back as she raised her chin in an almost defiant manner, "I am a princess."

"What's this whole charade about anyway, Angelus? Why haven't you already killed the bloody man?" Spike looked to him suspiciously, setting his fork down onto his plate. Elizabeth looked at her sire with disdain, but tried to keep it as subtle as she could. Their host was kind and generous; the fact her sire saw him as just a means of shelter was sickening to her.

"Don't encourage her, William. Let us lie low for once and enjoy the company," Angelus said with a bit of an undertone to his voice.

Spike scrutinized Angelus' face in silence before widening his eyes as he came to a conclusion, "Oh, I got it," he nodded as he picked up his fork and pulled the piece of lamb clean off into his mouth, "Angelus is a poofter. He fancies the dandy over there," Spike grinned as he pointed his fork at Maurizio. "Ain't that right, Angelus?" he could not contain the glee in his face as he chewed with his mouth open.

"What is going on?" Maurizio looked about them in bewilderment as Spike directed his fork at him.

"This food is delicious!" Spike said to him in French with a little too much gusto. "I want to _mangia! Mangia!_ " Spike proclaimed. "Mm, mm!" he rubbed at his belly. Drusilla began to giggle at him. Clearly, it was an act of sarcasm, but Maurizio, being a polite and tactful host, mustered a smile and forced a chuckle.

"Yes, please, feel free to take your fill. I'll share the compliments to the chef," he nodded at him.

"Didn't blow the cover on you and Nancy boy's secret, did I, Angelus?" Spike chuckled and took a draught of his wine.

"Enough, William," Angelus said, with an exasperated sigh.

"Enough," Elizabeth set down her fork and reached for her glass of wine; her voice was clear and just as sharp as the look she sent him from her usually kind eyes. She continued to sip at her wine again.

"Are we playing a game?" Drusilla asked, looking about their faces. "I want to play, too!" she pouted. Turning to Spike, she wagged a finger at him, pretending to be stern, "Enough, Willy!" Spike glanced to Elizabeth, surprised she suddenly had a change of heart. Defending a man who had once tried to rape her; a man whom he had saved her from; a man who had caused her to be terrified of the nightmares he had induced, where she had screamed herself awake for days on end. He had all but glanced at her, his eyes subtly growing wider as a hint of surprise showed through, but he quickly recovered and turned to face Angelus once more.

"Got your fangs sunk into 'er already, have you?" he snorted. "The mouse is taking after you well; quick to defend her great grandsire and all," Spike was smiling, but his eyes were dangerous. "Bravo to you," he clapped at him mockingly.

Elizabeth's strong look quickly faded, "That is… untrue. I do not tolerate rudeness," she said in her defense, her voice a bit more timid and embarrassed than before. One of the maids came out to refill their glasses and checked how they were coming along with their food.

"Ah, that is enough," Maurizio stopped the maid from pouring more wine into his glass. "Perhaps we have had our fill for this dinner?" he suggested, noting how sour the atmosphere had turned in the dining room, and that they were no longer eating. "We may lounge in the parlour for tea and coffee. How does that sound?" he suggested.

"Bloody well," Spike nodded, shoving his chair back and throwing his dinner napkin into his plate. "C'mon, Drusilla," Spike pulled her up from her chair and led her out, now knowing the way there from their tour.

"Please, clear the service and have coffee and tea served in the parlour," Maurizio asked the maid. She nodded and started to collect their plates.

"I do hope this does not make you think ill of me, Maurizio," Angelus sighed, now standing with the host, "William can be unruly at times, but he has always been… a good man," he glanced down thoughtfully at that.

"Ah, I can understand," Maurizio waved it off, "he's travelled so far and is suddenly in some unfamiliar place with a man he doesn't know. It can take some getting used to." Maurizio offered his arm for Elizabeth to take once more as he led them into the parlour, "I am just pleased to get to know this _bella donna_ ," he smiled at Elizabeth. Elizabeth smiled once more and took his arm.

┼†‡

As they entered the parlour, Drusilla and Spike were already seated comfortably in a large armchair by the fireplace. With Drusilla perched on his lap, Spike brushed her hair back with his hand. He glanced at them as they entered. Again, Maurizio said nothing at their overt displays of public affection.

"William, you'll be good now?" Angelus said as he walked by.

"Depends," Spike shrugged indifferently. "If maybe I can get another bottle of that fine wine he had picked for dinner, I'll be a good boy," he smiled and batted his lashes. Angelus sighed and just shook his head as he took a seat on one of the sofas. The maids came in shortly after, setting down a kettle of freshly brewed coffee, a pot of tea, milk, sugar, and an assortment of tiny, little cakes.

Elizabeth seated herself in an armchair and smiled with a soft word of thanks to the maids as she saw the nice after supper service that was brought in.

"What is it, love? Why the sudden sullen face?" Spike looked up at Drusilla, noticing how she glanced down to the floor as she pouted.

"We're here with our tea and cakes, and Miss Edith has yet to have her share. She must be cross with me, all alone waiting in my bedroom," she said as she rolled her eyes up to Spike, her forehead canted towards him as she pouted.

"Ah," Spike said, glancing down as his brows drew together lightly. "Who the bloody hell is Miss Edith?" Spike looked to her clearly confused.

"Come, love," Drusilla hopped up promptly from his lap and pulled his hand for him to follow. "Do not eat all the cakes," she turned to the three who remained seated, "you need to save some for Miss Edith and I when we return for our tea," she smiled brightly, then hopped off with a confused Spike in tow.

Maurizio watched as Drusilla playfully skipped out of the room as he sipped at his coffee, "She is a rather… eccentric woman," he noted. "Very… child-like."

"She's not at all right in the head," Angelus replied simply, stirring his cup of coffee, "but we love her all the same," he smiled up at his host. Maurizio was surprised at his honest reply, but nodded, appreciating his candour and that he showed her appreciation despite her ways; it was a respectable trait.

"I'd always assumed that Drusilla was your lover," Maurizio began, "but now that I can clearly see she is not," he raised his brows at the thought of Spike and Drusilla, "how does Elizabeth come into this picture? The four of you appear to be well acquainted, but you are not family, no?" he inquired.

Angelus chuckled lightly and looked to Elizabeth, "Well… as you know, my father was a linen and silk merchant. I met Elizabeth's family upon a business trip to London. It was at a party, I believe, for… I can't quite remember. All the events that are required for us to attend start to blur into one large event," he laughed. "Perhaps you could jog my memory, Elizabeth," Angelus looked to her with a twinkle in his eye. Elizabeth looked at Angelus with a curious and questioning look. She did hate to lie, but it was something she quickly learned that to survive, lying was sometimes necessary.

"It was at a party one Christmas Eve. My family always had large gatherings for friends, family, and business partners for as long as I can remember," she said with a slight fondness and sadness in her voice. Christmas Eve, the one party a year she would be allowed down from her keep to take part in festivities.

"Ah, yes, the party during Christmas Eve, how could I have forgotten that," Angelus chuckled.

"And your father, Elizabeth, he sounds like a man of great importance. What does he do?" Maurizio inquired, turning his attention to her. Elizabeth took in an instinctual nervous breath, but soon relaxed. Angelus glanced to her over the host's shoulder and gave her a little wink and a smile, as a means of encouragement and letting her know that she was doing well.

"My father owned quite a few properties and companies. He rarely kept me informed of his business affairs," she said with a little laugh to her voice, painting her father as he was for the most part, something that saddened and comforted her all at once.

"Oh?" Maurizio laughed at that. "Enough to keep his daughter from knowing the family business, but not enough to allow her to travel with the son of a linen and silk merchant?" he patted Angelus' shoulder.

Angelus returned his laughter, "I'm a well trusted man, as you've come to learn for yourself," he joked at him. "But upon meeting Elizabeth and her father, she was so enamoured with my stories of travel, she wanted to see the world for herself, insisting I take her with me," he glanced to Elizabeth, keeping that small smile on his lips. "Her father was not convinced at first, but it seems she managed to change his mind, as she later came to join us."

"'Tis a great strength to bend the will of a man," Maurizio said to Elizabeth, "especially if that man is your father. What did you say to convince him?" he asked.

Elizabeth looked at the taller man with a small smile, "I told him that while it was wise of him to keep me home, a lady should be well rounded as well as well mannered. To see the world may show me how valuable home really is," she said softly, sadness and regret hiding behind sweet blue eyes.

"A most excellent reason," Maurizio nodded. "I am not your father, but I now also feel compelled to let you travel and see the world," he laughed.

"She is charming, isn't she?" Angelus chuckled. Removing the other two from the picture, the three managed to make perfect company, just chatting calmly as they sipped at their hot coffee and nibbled at the tiny cakes.

"ANGELUS!" Spike boomed from outside before charging into the room, a face of aggravation once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations:**  
>  _enchanté -_ nice to meet you
> 
>  **Italian Translations:**  
>  _Una bella donna…! -_ A beautiful woman…!  
>  _mangia! Mangia! -_ eat! Eat!


	22. Day 21: The Lost Leader PART II

"Please, William, not again," Angelus sighed as he rolled his eyes. He did not have much time to deliberate for Spike had him yanked up by the lapels, causing the cup to slip from his grasp and spilling coffee onto the fast-staining rug. Elizabeth looked up from her tea in shock.

"How many times!" Spike slammed Angelus hard onto the floor as he hovered over him; his grip on his coat held strong. "Everywhere I stepped just _wreaked_ of your stench!" he growled, the rage in him just as strong as what he had displayed at Place Garibaldi, if not more, likened with a shared pain of betrayal and sadness.

"What is this madness? What is going on!" Maurizio stood and watched in horror at Spike's onslaught.

"Forgive him, they tend to fight sometimes," Elizabeth explained as she turned to their host.

"Don't do this William. Not here, not now," Angelus said slowly and calmly, sounding perfectly reasonable.

"What sick lesson were you trying to teach me this time, huh!" Spike screamed in his face, his voice cracking as the sound of desperation crept in. "You just couldn't _wait_ to have me out of the picture, didn't you!" Drusilla slowly walked into the chaos of her lover with a porcelain China doll held within her arms. Her gaze drifted over the room as though she were lost, however, she didn't appear to be surprised or upset at all with Spike's state of vexation- she was rather indifferent.

"He can be quite mad at times. Perhaps we can go to another room until this… skirmish dies down?" Elizabeth said with a little laugh of nervousness, visibly embarrassed for the scene.

"'Sometimes'?" Maurizio looked to her in shock. "He looks like he's going to positively kill him!" he cried, worried for his friend's well-being. Angelus turned to glance at Maurizio from the floor and spoke some words in Italian to reassure him that he was all right.

"Always liked to show off with your fancy words and knowledge for languages," Spike scoffed.

"Angelus is a very talented cunning linguist," Drusilla said dreamily, taking a seat on the sofa in front of the tea and cakes.

" _Drusilla!_ " Spike glanced over his shoulder at her, hurt showing through on his expression. "Always so worried about puttin' on airs and savin' face, are you?" Spike spun back round and leaned in closer to his sire, his voice rushed and threatening. "How 'bout I give your little friend a show he'll be screaming and raving about," he gave a wide mouth chuckle. Elizabeth's blue eyes widened at that threat.

"Don't you dare show that face, William," Angelus warned. "Quick, remove him from the room!" Angelus looked to Elizabeth, hoping Maurizio wouldn't catch sight of Spike's vampire form. Elizabeth looked at the two and wondered if she could help in the situation, but knowing full well her involvement would only escalate the situation, she thought otherwise. It did not help to add that Drusilla was only fanning her sire's rage.

Turning to her host with a distressed face, Elizabeth took his by the arm, "May we please go to the library? I do hate seeing them fight," she said as she took a step towards the door, gently pulling him along.

Maurizio glanced to Elizabeth, then back at the men, "I… yes, I do not wish you to be more distressed than you are," he looked to his guest, "but to leave him in this state-" he began.

"I'll be all right," Angelus assured him, holding fast onto Spike's wrists, keeping him in place. "Just need to weather the storm and wait for the calm to settle," he nodded.

"All right," Maurizio agreed begrudgingly. As he took his leave with Elizabeth, Spike transformed his face and let out an inhuman growl, lunging forward onto the male below him.

"W-what was that?" Maurizio glanced over his shoulder at the sudden animalistic roar.

"My friend is quite mad. Please, I cannot bear this!" she said with another pull to spare him the monstrous sight.

┼†‡

As Elizabeth walked with him, she let out a sigh and rested her forehead in her palm, "Since I left home, he has been like family to me. I hate to see him this way," her voice soft and laced with sadness.

Maurizio was puzzled at this, but did not further question it, "I… see…," he bowed his head at her vulnerable confession, not wanting to say anything ill about a man she deemed as someone she sought for familial console.

┼†‡

As soon as Angelus could no longer hear the tepid footfalls of the pair, he sat up from his position from Spike's supposed clutches and headbutted him hard.

"OW!" Spike cried, throwing a hand to his ridged brow as he plummeted backwards. Angelus dusted himself up as he stood, towering over as Spike lay sprawled out on the floor. "You cheap little scoundrel!" Spike cried, having succumbed to the likes of his sire even in his human guise.

"Oh, Willy, Willy, Willy," Angelus walked forward slowly with his hands behind his back, shaking his head ever so slightly. He chuckled, "Don't you see, you won't ever win," he bent low and grabbed him by the collar, drawing his face close to his, "against the likes of someone smarter, stronger, and quicker than you." Spike growled and bared his jagged teeth. "Not getting the hint? Why, it's me!" Angelus gave a lighthearted laugh.

"I knew who you were talking about, you pompous twat!" Spike smacked his hand away and scrambled up himself.

"Would you like a sample of cake, Miss Edith?" Drusilla said quietly in her childlike voice, her eyes cast down as she held her doll within her lap, not paying any mind to the men before her.

"Put those fangs away now, Willy boy, there isn't anyone else here to impress," Angelus sighed, bordering on a tone of boredom as he rolled his eyes at the ceiling.

Spike glared at him but acquiesced, "I have you know I only chose to do that on my own free will!" he said, remaining defiant.

"If t'at helps to ease your mind," Angelus patted Spike on the chest as he stepped past him, then plopped down next to Drusilla and spread his arms out wide to drape behind on the backrest. "As for your expeditious line of questions: oh… I'd say far too many, I'd entirely lost count," Angelus chuckled. "Not as though I'd even try to bother. Who'd want to count t'at high?" he laughed some more and stroked Drusilla's locks from behind. Spike's piercing eyes followed Angelus from across the room and as his sire carried on with his explanation. His once rage filled eyes quickly turned to hurt as his brows drew together, and his eyes took on a starry glaze. "Aw, Dru, look at your sad little puppy, it looks like he's goin' to cry," Angelus held Drusilla by the shoulders from behind as he pouted, mocking Spike's torment.

Drusilla glanced up from her pretend tea party and spoke softly, "Such a sad tune, Willy," she frowned, "all I hear are violins."

"As for question two, hmm, let's see," Angelus put a finger to his lips as he sat in thought, "not'ing in particular comes to mind. Why does everyt'ing have to involve a lesson for you? Are you t'at dull you need to be put through schooling again?" Angelus canted his head. "There are some t'ings you can learn from books, and there are t'ings you need to learn from life- or unlife," he smiled. "I really don't care whether you're here or not, _William_ , it makes no difference to me. I did t'ink t'at wit' the time you were away, you'd have your hands full wit' t'at other filly. And considerin' how long you'd been gone, I'd have thought you'd have been keepin' busy. But it seems she's still a virgin," Angelus leaned forward and sneered at Spike. "What's wrong, William? Are t'ings not working like they used to?" he flickered his eyes lower over Spike.

"Shut up, Angelus! You know _well_ I'm not like you, jumping at every opportunity to satisfy an itch! I've only got eyes for only one woman!" he growled, his breaths ragged. He glanced down to Drusilla and looked back up as Angelus replied:

"Unfortunate she cannot say the same for you," Angelus peered at Drusilla and smiled. "'Tis a pity and shame." Spike stomped over the table, and unfortunately causing the ill fate of the cakes to fall victim to the bottom of his boot.

Drusilla covered her mouth with her hands as she gasped, "Miss Edith's cakes!"

"You shut your mouth, Angelus! You will not speak ill of her or us anymore!" Spike threatened, holding his sire by the collar.

"Oh, God, this old tune again?" Angelus looked to him wearily. Forming his hands into a steeple, he quickly thrust them upward between Spike's arms and swung them outward, forcing the other's hold on him to drop before gaining control of the situation himself by pulling him into a bear hug. Jumping on his feet to better facilitate his grasp, his iron grip held Spike in place, forcing the other's arms to lie flat against his sides, and disabling him from moving forward or back without pulling Angelus along with him. Spike growled as he squirmed and fidgeted in place. "Are we havin' a dance now?" Angelus pressed Spike's head to his chest as he started to sway, much to the other's chagrin. "Listen well, _William_ , for I'm only going to say this once: you are not to interfere with my plans here. When I tell you not to do somet'ing, don't do it; it's t'at simple. What is he again, precious?" Angelus turned his head to face Drusilla.

"'He is nothing but your puppet'," Drusilla replied as if she had rehearsed it; the puppet they were referring to was Maurizio. She said this whilst pressing the mound of crumbs of cake into one large ball without much as glancing up.

"That's right," Angelus turned to look back at Spike and caressed the back of his head rather roughly as the other continued to struggle.

"So, you are plannin' some big ol' coup against the bloke," Spike said, confirming his own suspicions.

"'Course I would. You t'ink I'd be friends with a human?" he laughed.

"Then let me in on the plan," Spike insisted.

"Willy, dear boy," Angelus sighed, "you're just not cut out for something of this calibre. It's best to keep you in the dark," he patted him hard on the cheek as he rested his chin atop of his head of curls, then finally loosened his hold. Spike gave him a quick rebellious shove before slipping away from his form to stand at a small distance.

He glared at him as he straightened his coat, "Maybe I'll take things into my own hands and spoil the fun by just killin' 'im," he spat.

"What do we say to t'at, my sweet?" Angelus turned to Drusilla once more.

"No, Willy, you mustn't kill him," she said, as she frowned at Spike, "it isn't time. Not until Daddy allows for it." Spike always knew that Drusilla would hold her loyalties to Angelus over him, since the two of them were cut from the same proverbial black-dyed cloth. Spike and Drusilla shared a joy of killing together, but it wasn't the same as what she and Angelus had. He feared that now he was going to lose what little rapport he had established with Elizabeth, soon to be replaced by the likes of the cunning and tactical minded Angelus- it was already evident by the way she was defending him. "Say you won't kill him, Willy," Drusilla persisted, her eyes large as she frowned at him. Spike looked back at her and said nothing, only to turn and walk out the room and out of the manor. After all the commotion, there was finally silence.

┼†‡

Elizabeth sighed as she walked with her host, "May we return to the gardens? Being outside is so soothing. Your gardens are so beautiful. Overlooking the water… it is like a painting," she breathed, now calm since they had distanced themselves from the conflict.

"Of course, my dear, whatever you wish," Maurizio said. As he walked out of the library, he noted the calm and stillness that had befallen the manor. "'Tis quiet," he said. "Excuse me, I would like to see how things are faring within the parlour." With a sigh, Elizabeth followed him as she worried what she might find when they got there.

Maurizio knocked at the parlour door before he tentatively stepped in. He came upon the sight of Angelus sitting cross legged on the sofa with a new cup of coffee in hand. His eyes wandered lower to see the mess that was made of the cakes, then shifted his gaze to the coffee stain on the rug that had been caused during the scuffle. It had now spread and most likely had set in by that time, but the cup had been picked up. Drusilla stood idly with her doll in her arms as she stared starry-eyed out the large windows. "Is everything all right?" he glanced about, wondering if the temperamental male might have been lurking in a dark corner and would at any moment pounce.

"Everything is fine now, Maurizio," Angelus smiled, taking a sip of his beverage. "Fantastic coffee, by the way. Such a lovely robust and earthy roast."

Maurizio ventured in farther as he glanced about the room, inspecting to see if anything else was amiss, "I feared things would take a turn for the worse," his brows drew together lightly with apprehension.

"Nonsense," Angelus chuckled, waving it off. "It's just a tired old tune he plays," he assured him. "He can be rather juvenile at times."

"I can see that," Maurizio frowned. "If he had made any further advances, I would have, unfortunately, rescinded my invitation and asked him to leave."

"He won't do anything more, I'll make sure of it," Angelus nodded. "I apologise again on his behalf. Allow me to have your rug replaced for the hindrance we've caused," he glanced to the stain.

"You're not to blame for his temper and inability to remain civil," Maurizio waved it off. "As for the rug, I'll simply have it replaced for something more current." With a look of relief crossing her features, Elizabeth refilled her cup of tea and took a seat close to Drusilla.

Drusilla spoke softly then, "Such a sad song, my poor Willy plays," she frowned. "All alone perched by the pretty fountain as he paints his sorrows with words." Taking a brief look out of the window herself, Elizabeth shook her head before turning her attention to the other three in the room.

"Elizabeth, would you still care to visit the gardens?" Maurizio turned to glance at Elizabeth at her new station. "It is getting rather late by the hour. Would you wish that I have someone fetch your belongings for you and have them sent to your guestroom?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "I think I will stay inside for the remainder of the night. And yes, please. Thank you Mr. di Bazza," she said quietly as she looked up at her grandsire. Maurizio rang for a maid and instructed her to have her fetch their guests' belongings.

"Please, feel free to explore the manor as you please. If you need anything, the maids are here for your disposal. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be retiring to my chambers," he gave a little nod and smile before he left.

"You hear that, dear? They're here for our disposal," Angelus said absently as he glanced down to sip his coffee. "'There anyt'ing you need from them?"

Drusilla turned her head slightly, "Oh, yes, more cakes, please. Miss Edith does not like the taste of grime or dirt," she shook her head lightly. A maid entered after Angelus had called for one and stood idly, waiting for instruction.

"And you, Elizabeth?" Angelus turned his head this time to look at her and smiled.

"I would like a few sweets too, if that is no trouble," she said to the maid with a kind smile. Angelus took to their requests and instructed the maid as such. She nodded and cleared the coffee table of the mess that Drusilla had made of the crumbs and cake, then scurried off.

"I hope William didn't frighten you with that display of impertinence," Angelus peered over the sofa as he spoke to Elizabeth from where he sat.

Elizabeth shook her head, "Not at all; I mainly feared for our host. I have seem him a lot worse in Paris," she said softly, remembering their fight in Notre-Dame.

"He can be rather jealous at times," Angelus sipped at his coffee, "especially of the relationship that Drusilla and I share," he looked up thoughtfully. "It's a more intimate bond, considering I sired her," he glanced a smile at Drusilla. Elizabeth tilted her head at this. Her sire may have been rough and cruel at times, but she did not want to see him hurt. "I suppose t'at might be the same wit' yours, but… I dare hate to insinuate, William may be the exception."

Blushing a little, Elizabeth shook her head, "H-he may be violent, but he is a gentleman," she said with tense shoulders, a subject that always flustered her. The maid returned with a fresh tray of cakes and a fresh pot of tea.

Angelus flickered his gaze at her at her last comment, "Come, join and sit with me," he smiled. "Your cakes are here, sweet," he said to Drusilla.

"Oh, mer-see boh-coo," Drusilla hopped up from her perch at the window and scuffled over, speaking each syllable slowly in thanks as the maid gave her a sweet smile and set down the items. Elizabeth smiled at the maid as she poured herself a fresh cup of tea and placed a little cake on her saucer. The maid quietly left the room shortly after Angelus did not give any further instruction.

Angelus peered over his cup as he sipped, "Rare when that part of him shows through," he noted, continuing on his last thought, "still a bit of a remnant from his upbringing, but just a glimpse, now and again." Angelus gave a small shrug and sighed, "Sometimes I believe he acts the way he does just to make me upset. He appears to be going through a rebellious stage. Possibly just to garner more attention and show that he can hold his own," he glanced to Elizabeth as though he spoke of his unruly teenaged son. "But what am I to do?" Drusilla had seated herself on the floor with her doll propped up on the coffee table as she poured it its own cup of tea, having set a piece of cake on a saucer by its side.

Elizabeth nodded with a small smile, "He can be very… quick to act without thinking things through," she said as she watched her 'grandmother'.

"He's always been impulsive and impatient," Angelus agreed, an edge of annoyance in his eyes.

"Has she always been… this way?" Elizabeth asked in a hushed tone, not wanting to upset her. After all, Elizabeth would not have been there if it were not for Drusilla.

Angelus glanced over to Drusilla as she took to putting the cake up to the doll's face, "No, not always," he said with a small smile on his lips, "but I was there to witness her condition worsen and watched as she deteriorated. But now all is well," he looked to Elizabeth and broadened his smile, "because she fits perfectly with the likes of us. I wouldn't have her any other way."

"Such a dashing devil Daddy was," Drusilla smiled sinisterly across the table at her sire. Elizabeth looked at the woman and smiled a bit, feeling a deep bond with her since she had taken her in. Holding her grateful smile, Elizabeth relaxed in her chair as she sipped her tea. "Come, lovey, come join me and Miss Edith for cakes and tea," Drusilla beckoned at Elizabeth with a flick of her wrist, jingling her bracelet lightly.

Angelus observed the new item on her person, "Such a pretty bracelet on such a pretty filly," he noted.

"Oh, William got this for me as a gift," she hugged her wrist to her chest. "It sparkles so lovingly." Angelus said no more as he watched the two females engage with each other. "Miss Edith would like to meet you," Drusilla turned the doll around to face Elizabeth, pulling out one of its stiff arms for her to shake. "Say hello Miss Edith, don't be bashful," she coaxed.

Elizabeth smiled and took to the floor next to Drusilla and set her cup of tea on the coffee table, "She is very beautiful," she said with a small smile as she shook the doll's small hand. "It is all right; I am quite shy myself," she said softly. It was nice to have such a loving female figure around to make her feel comfortable. She never quite knew where she stood with the other two men, but the affection she got from Drusilla was constant and such a comfort since her untimely and unexpected 'death'.

"What is that?" Drusilla leaned forward and placed her head next to the doll's. She giggled a bit before looking back up at Elizabeth, "She thanks you for the compliment. You've made her blush," she giggled some more. She paused, her eyes widening as she listened, as though the doll had continued to speak, "She fancies the ribbons in your hair… the lovely shade of blue on your dress is like someone cut it from the sky," her eyes wandered over her dress.

Elizabeth sipped her tea and giggled a bit as she looked at the doll and her grandsire, "Thank you, Miss Edith. Perhaps I will find you a ribbon like mine," she said sweetly, indulging her grandsire's childlike behaviour with a bit of enjoyment herself. Drusilla was now entirely enthralled in her world of make-believe and Elizabeth only encouraged it.

Without much of a warning, Angelus slipped out of the room to allow the girls to bond.

┼†‡

As time passed, Drusilla, although her ways very childlike, had managed to flit in some words of coherency. Elizabeth continued to play with her until her elder resumed a new spot by the roaring fire place. Sipping on her last cup of tea for the night, Elizabeth sat quietly as she listened to her grandsire hum a tune. Drusilla almost resembled something like a doll herself in the oversized armchair, swinging her legs idly as she stroked at Miss Edith's hair.

Spike peeked into the room to see the two females alone in the parlour, having returned from his time alone to sulk.

Drusilla glanced up at him and stretched an arm out to welcome him, "William, come." Her small act of reception warmed him and he gladly moved towards her, silent, but his expression glum. Welcoming him into her arms, Drusilla embraced him lightly and kissed him on the head as he sank down on the floor next to her. Spike rested his head against her leg as she stroked his hair. As she looked onward towards the fireplace, she began to sing softly, " _Early one morning, just as the sun was rising…-"_

Spike flinched upon hearing it and pulled away from her, "Stop it, Drusilla!" he looked more upset than when he had entered. Elizabeth knitted her brows at her sire's reaction. Tilting her head a bit, she kept her observations to herself.

"But that song always comforted you," Drusilla replied softly, looking sad that he had reacted to her so harshly.

"Well, you're not Mother!" he snapped.

"But I am your mummy…," she began, "I only wanted to make you happy," she pouted, her voice taking on the sound of a mewling whine. She dropped her head and hugged her doll to her chest, as she now took to sulking.

Spike took a moment to recover and stood to console her, "I-I'm sorry, darling, I know you only meant well," he touched at her shoulder only to be rebuffed by a shrug. "It's just… that song- you can sing me anything else but that song."

Drusilla glanced up with her doe eyes, "…All right," she replied. Spike gave a bit of a relieved smile.

Taking her by the hand, Spike pulled her to her feet, "Come, let's retire to our room. We'll find a new one," he said with a little bit more cheer.

"Good night," Elizabeth said softly to Drusilla as the pair left. Now alone, Elizabeth took the opportunity to stroll through the halls and up to the smaller library by the guestrooms to find a book to read before bed. She would save the treasure that was the large library for another night.

┼†‡

Finding out where Angelus' room of stay was what Spike needed to know first, as he wanted to be as far away from him as possible. Taking one that was on the opposite end of the hall, he managed to hastily grab Drusilla's possessions and relocated them to their new quarters. Coincidentally enough, they happened to now be situated next to Elizabeth's new room. Spike sighed but didn't complain. Better to have her closer than Angelus. After getting cleaned and changed for bed, Spike waited for Drusilla to join him from the bathroom, but she never returned.

"Drusilla?" he called, wondering what was taking her.

┼†‡

"Will you read me a bedtime story?" Drusilla was dressed in a long flowing nightgown as she wandered into her grandprogeny's bedroom; the sight of her was ghostlike, eerie, yet all at the same time, innocent.

Elizabeth, now dressed in a nightgown with her hair drawn into a long braid, was seated in bed, "Oh, you startled me!" she said with her hand to her chest as if to calm her still heart. She was reading a book by lamplight, happy to have found one by one of her favourite authors in the small selection of English books. "And of course," Elizabeth said softly as she sat up in bed.

Drusilla hopped and clapped excitedly, then bounded over to the bed. She scooted in next to Elizabeth and glanced at the book in her hand, "What is it about?" she asked innocently, snuggling in close to her side.

Elizabeth smiled at the older woman, "It is a collection of poems and short stories by Edgar Allan Poe," she said as she flipped through the pages to the beginning of a poem called 'Annabel Lee'. Glancing down at her childlike grandsire once more, Elizabeth began to read.

┼†‡

Spike had lost all patience waiting for his absent lover to respond. He went to the bathroom to find it empty and questionably glanced over his shoulder, "No, she couldn't have…."

Stepping out of the doorway, he heard Elizabeth's soft voice emanating from her room; the glow of her lantern was a warning beacon as he neared. He stepped in, intruding upon the sight of Drusilla resting her head on Elizabeth's shoulder as the other read to her. Elizabeth's voice was soft as she inflected each word as if she felt the emotions imposed on the characters herself. Halfway through the poem, she paused to see her sire enter the room. He was visibly put off, it seemed.

"So you are here," Spike sighed. "Drusilla, you mustn't wander around like that without telling me where you go."

"I wanted to hear a story," Drusilla replied softly, glancing up at him, "other than the ones in my head," she added, looking back down at the book in question. "Come, join us, William," she smiled. Elizabeth tensed at this, but made no vocal comments.

Spike stood at the foot of the bed and stared down at the two rather awkwardly, "No, Dru, I don't need to be read to sleep. I am a grown man," a little condescending note to his voice.

"But it's about love and death, your two most favourite subjects. Come, love, just for a moment," she pleaded, seeing how Spike was giving in to her.

"…Just for a moment," he sighed.

"Sit next to granddaughter so you can better view the book," Drusilla pointed.

Spike's brow rose, "It isn't a picture book, pet," taking his spot as instructed all the same.

"But you can see the words all the better. You like words," Drusilla commented with her distant voice, hooking her arms through Elizabeth's as she snuggled her head against her. This gesture soothed Elizabeth's nerves and allowed her to relax, and her once stiff composure softened. Spike sat upright with a leg crossed over the other, and his hands clasped atop of his stomach as he merely waited for Elizabeth to continue. He sighed softly, thinking how bizarre the scene of them must have appeared- the picture of a disjointed vampire family. In retrospect, their roles were all reversed. Considering Drusilla as sire, she should have been the one to be reading Elizabeth the book, but Drusilla appeared to be the child. Spike, he supposed, was the father then- but he _was_ the father. He rolled his eyes and sighed once more.

With a soft and saddened lilt to her voice, the younger vampire continued:

 _"For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams_  
_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_  
_And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes_  
_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_  
_And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side_  
_Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,_  
_In her sepulchre there by the sea—_  
_In her tomb by the sounding sea."_

She finished with a sorrowful yet contented voice, narrating as the heartbroken lover who could finally rest next to his lost love. Closing the book, she set it in her lap and turned to her grandsire with a sweet look. Even though it seemed like she was in the position of the more mature role, her face looked like that of a little girl who got to read to her elder sister for a change. The comfort she felt with her was as plain as the nose on her face.

"Such a sad and woeful tale," Drusilla peered up at Elizabeth, "you express it perfectly so," she beamed a small smile at her. Elizabeth smiled, finally having the sister she had longed for. "Read to me again, granddaughter," she requested, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead and caressing her cheek. At her request, Elizabeth gave an apologetic look, knowing full well how her sire's impatience must have been growing.

"Not tonight," Spike interjected, his voice rising loudly above their soft whispers. He offered his hand for Drusilla to take. "It's time for bed, Dru." Drusilla complied by placing her hand in his and scrambled over Elizabeth and off the bed.

"Good night, sweet girl," Drusilla paused before turning to face her one last time.

"Good night," Spike thought to add, giving the girl whose bed he had shared for the past few weeks a curt nod.

Now having the bed to herself once more, Elizabeth smiled at the both of them, "Good night." The pair left together to retire to their own room. Reaching for her gloves, Elizabeth decided to read from her bible before she finally went to sleep.


	23. Day 22: Morning, Midday, and Evening Sacrifice

The evening began splendidly. Spike finally had a full day of rest with the woman he loved in his arms, and he no longer had to share a bed with his progeny. He took advantage of the young night and whisked Drusilla away with him for some fun, wanting to catch up for the all the time they had spent apart.

Elizabeth also had plans of her own. Determined to explore the larger library as she had previously promised herself, she made headway into the vast and silent room with a small request of having a pot of tea brought to her. It was a magnificent thing to behold- books lining the rounded walls that ascended to the ceiling. Taking her time to peruse the more than adequate collection, Elizabeth picked a few choice books in English and a couple in French. Eager to delve into the unknown worlds she held within her hands, she nestled herself on the window seat that overlooked the sea. Without another thought, she opened one of the hardcovers and flipped to the first page, just as the turbulent seas from her view began to toss and turn, and the faint rumble of thunder filled the air. It was the perfect weather for a wonderful story of a man who dared to play God. Lulled by the hypnotic sound of the thundering storm and crashing waves, and further enticed by the words of the pages, Elizabeth was soon fully immersed into the world of the story.

┼†‡

Angelus and Maurizio were descending the stairway, having just left the Nicoise's study. They were discussing some future events that were happening within the city, and other engagements that Maurizio had previously committed to, eluding that he would possibly have to take his leave sometime soon again. After their short discussion, Maurizio excused himself for a meeting in town. As the lone vampire walked along the corridor, he noticed a maid bringing a small tray of tea and biscuits to the library.

Sitting with her book in her lap, Elizabeth only gave a polite smile and a mumble of a, "Thank you," as if she had barely noticed the maid at all. Angelus waited for the help to leave before silently strolling in as he spotted Elizabeth seated by the window. He made no indication that he was there as he observed her from the large wall of books between them. He found it curious that she had not yet noticed his presence. He wasn't standing within a distance that a normal person would have discovered him- unless he had stood out in plain sight- however, for a vampire, they would have heard his subtle movements or picked up a trace of his scent. Elizabeth, on the other hand, gave no indication of having picked up on any of that. Angelus found that to be a very curious thing.

Several minutes had passed and Angelus remained silent and still as he watched her eyes flicker back and forth as she read, turning the pages occasionally, and taking a sip of tea every now and then. Her brows rose and her eyes remained intently focused on the page as she continued to read. As the thunder began to roll, her hands started to tremble. At that moment, Angelus finally stepped out of hiding and walked forward, still quiet as he approached.

When he was within a few feet away from her, he spoke: "That must be an intriguing story," he said, just as a flash of lightening lit up the room and thunder crashed loudly.

Just when the monster was about to strike in the story, a voice pulled Elizabeth harshly back into reality, and with a jolt, she dropped the book to the floor, "Oh!" she cried as lightning illuminated Angelus' face. "You startled me! I must have been so engrossed with my reading; I did not hear you come in," she said with a shaky voice as she reached down for her book.

Angelus laughed lightly, "You appeared to be completely enthralled, it was painted ever so clearly on your face. I apologise for startling you." He watched as she picked up the book, "'Tis perfect weather for a night spent in, cozy with a spot of tea and a book," he noted, giving a slight nod. "I was never too keen on that as a lad. Often sought for company and attention to appease those drawn-out hours. Would it be a bother to request the company of yours? William and Drusilla have taken their leave to the city, and Maurizio has left for a meeting. I've no one else here, and it can be rather lonely spending time by oneself in a house so grand such as this one." Elizabeth sat back up with the book now in her hands and looked at the man who now looked less foreboding.

She nodded at his request, understanding what it was like to be lonely and finding good company, "It would be no bother at all. Please," she said as she made room for him by the window. "Should I call for another cup?" she offered with a kind smile.

"T'ank you," Angelus smiled, moving over and taking a seat in the empty space by her. "No, t'at isn't necessary," he gave his hand a little wave. "I play up the role with eating and drinking in front of Maurizio and others alike, only so that it doesn't offend them or arise suspicion. I really don't care for the likes of human food at all now," he smiled lightly. "Well, other than the occasional drink or two," he admitted with a small chuckle, "but I suppose that has to do more with the feeling that it invokes." He glanced at the book within her grasp, "What it is that you're reading that caused you to be swept off so readily into that world? Your hands were trembling."

With a small giggle, Elizabeth glanced down at the book in her hands, "This is 'Frankenstein' by Mary Shelley. It is a story of a young doctor who dared to play God by creating a man by sewing parts of different people together and reanimating it. His creation turns out monstrous and is rejected. The monster is now forced to take to the streets, roaming about and leaving destruction in its wake. I was at a part where it came upon a boy. I will wait to see what happens though."

"T'at's quite a book you've picked," Angelus' eyes widened, a chuckle of surprise slipping past his lips. "What do you t'ink of this man who plays his hand at God? Was it wrong for him to bring to life this monster? 'Tis a sentient being now, one t'at can feel and love, yes? Should it be destroyed, just as it has done to others? Or would killing somet'ing t'at is considered 'living' morally wrong and just as monstrous?" he clasped his hands in front of him by his knees as he gazed at Elizabeth questionably. The book reflected much of their lifestyle, and he found it quite humorous, almost laughable that she was reading it. He was curious though, what she would draw from the literature that would evoke much deliberation and thoughts reflected on the acts of human nature and morality. His subtle ways of interaction and play were ways of learning how she behaved, a tedious and slow task, but would eventually pay off in his final outcome.

Elizabeth's expression softened and became much more pensive as she found herself deep in thought, "Victor was warned to not do this, but his curiosity and challenge at his own resolve proved more important than his slight against God. The monster can feel because it is angry at being rejected by its creator who refuses to take responsibility for what he has done. It matters not if it is a creature or person; everyone is capable of love and carnage. Some men should die for their sins, some deserve forgiveness. How one determines their sentence is so often unclear for one will risk becoming what one despises," she said softly.

A slow smile spread across Angelus' face, "You've quite the mind for philosophy," he commented. Elizabeth glanced down with a smile. It was nice to have her mind and wit appreciated for once. "You'd do well to hold your own for conversation at parties. In fact, Maurizio has invited us to one." Looking up at him at the mention of 'party', Elizabeth's smile faltered a bit into that of nervousness. "But not to worry, he's given us ample time for preparation. Won't be for another week or so," Angelus smiled, "enough to have a dress picked and fitted for you for that special event."

"I… already have a gown. Will William and Drusilla be joining us?" she asked, keeping true to her promise to attend a ball with him.

"Yes, the invitation extends to them as well," Angelus nodded, "that is if they wish to attend," he canted his head slightly and sighed softly, knowing well that it would depend on his grandprogeny's temperament on that given day.

Elizabeth nodded as another streak of lightening flashed and she looked out the window, "I always loved storms. The rain would always put me to sleep. I always found it to be perfect reading weather. It is so relaxing," she said with a sigh as she sipped her tea.

Angelus glanced out the window as he watched the rain pelt down against the glass, "I wasn't one to care much for weather like this. Either had my hands full with… well… I kept my mind preoccupied well enough," he said, being elusive about his frivolous ways of drunkenness and debauchery, "but when I was trapped at home, I'd often tend to Kathy. She was just terrified of storms." He glanced to Elizabeth, "My sister," he explained. "I had to stay wit' her till it passed, sometimes it'd take all night till the wee morning light. You'd t'ink I'd have snuck away when she'd fallen asleep, but trust me when I say, she'd wake at a moment's notice when I'd try," he shook his head. "I'd like to t'ink t'at I had given her enough love and devotion as a girl till she blossomed into a young woman. I'd imagine she'd have grown up to be someone like you," Angelus smiled lightly, casting his eyes down as he reminisced.

Elizabeth smiled tenderly at him, "You were a good brother. Mine would comfort me at times if I was sad, but he would often tease me and lock me in closets or dark rooms."

"You've got a brother as well? One t'at takes to pranks, I see. I can tell you love him very much, all the same," he smiled.

"At least I am not afraid of the dark anymore," she said with a small laugh at the now fond and bittersweet memory.

"That is a very good t'ing you aren't. Can you imagine a vampire that's afraid of the dark? How incredibly farcical would that be?" he chuckled. "Drusilla, she also had two sisters. Perhaps that is why she is so protective and dotes on you like so. She was naturally maternal," Angelus glanced up in thought, thinking fondly of the nature of their past. "As for William, hmph, our first encounter was rather frictional on the get go. He's like a fire you can't tame- at one moment manageable, other times burning so high, you'd caution yourself to get close lest you wanted to get burnt. We reconcile our differences for the most part, and when he's calm, he's actually rather delightful to be around," he said rather thoughtfully. "Can't say much though for his upbringing. From what I gather, he was an only child and raised by his mother."

"It is nice to have someone to talk to. William and I would on occasion have small moments of conversation, but most of the time, he is impossible," she admitted. "But, he is often good to speak with," Elizabeth tried to explain. "It was strange. No matter how bad situations were, he always appeared to look out for me."

"Did he now?" Angelus smiled as he pressed his cheek into his palm, "He surprises me at times when I least expect him to."

"And Drusilla, she is so kind. She was the one to find me. I do not know what would have happened if she did not take me in," she said softly as she looked down.

"I'm grateful that she had. If you had been left there for the morning sun…," he trailed off and shook his head. "I apologise for turning something so lovely into something so grim," he looked to her with his expressive brows drawn together.

"It is nice to have found you. At least with you and Drusilla, I know where I stand, " Elizabeth said with a comforted smile.

"I'm so pleased that you feel that way. I feared you'd never have forgiven me for what I had done before," Angelus beamed at her as he pressed a hand to his chest. Elizabeth held a small smile but tensed at mention of that horrid memory, a memory she was trying to put out of her mind. "Would it be bold for me to say that I've finally found someone akin to the likes that I would enjoy mentoring? That is, if you would allow me to."

At this statement, she beamed at him, "Not at all Angelus."

Lowering his arm, he carefully observed her expression, "There is much to learn in our unfamiliar world, and William… I could only teach him so much before he grew deaf to my advice. You, however, Elizabeth, I believe would be very receptive."

"There is so much about this world that confuses me still. And William… well, I have to fly by with my own wit sometimes," she said with a little chuckle. "I would… appreciate that," Elizabeth said with a smile like a girl who would smile at an older brother.

"Splendid," Angelus' grin only broadened. "We'll make a game of it; you'll barely notice you are learning." He glanced out the window as the rain began to show signs of stopping, "The weather appears to be faring better. Should be a good time to take to the streets for a bite," he mused. Elizabeth nodded. It was nice to take a break from the streets, but she was beginning to get very hungry. "We don't need to begin tonight," he said turning to her, "I don't want to pressure you. How about we start by attending the ballet tomorrow evening? Maurizio has a box reserved specifically for him when he attends and has given me permission for me to use it if I choose to. It shall be nice to be in your own private area without having others' head blocking the view. How does that sound?" he smiled.

"I… would love to," she said with a happy smile as she turned her head to him. Hopefully, he would appreciate the performance and stay with her unlike her sire.

"Then it's settled," Angelus stood and straightened out his coat. "I'm positively ravished," he placed a hand to his stomach and he took a step forward, then paused and turned to look at her. "When was the last time you fed? You look a bit peckish," he tilted his head slightly and observed the look on her face. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Perhaps… you'd do me the honour of joining me?" he requested civilly. Elizabeth glanced down with a brief look of deliberation at the invitation. It was true, she was hungry, and it would do her good to have more than a few minutes of tolerable company. Nodding, she stood to her feet with hardly another word. Despite her type of prey, she still had such humility, that it pained her to remember what she was truly hungry for. Angelus looked very pleased as Elizabeth acquiesced to his invitation. Offering his arm for her to take, he led them outside.

┼†‡

The downpour now only resembled mist, and as they ventured farther along the dark and wet streets, they were only reminded of it by the wet puddles when all signs of precipitation had ceased.

"What proclivities do you take to, my dear?" Angelus asked, walking calmly along as though they were only out for a stroll for the evening.

Elizabeth walked with him at his arm. She looked about her as she responded, "Vile men… monsters," she said softly with a hint of bitterness to an otherwise gentle and innocent tone.

"Ah," Angelus nodded, "shall we find a couple of them for you, then?" he patted at her hand absently as he stared forward. He directed them along the streets, turning down to more secluded areas where there were taverns lined along the building façade. A few drunkards were milling around outside, stumbling about from being too intoxicated, and possibly having been kicked out for being overly rowdy. Within those same areas were prostitutes, attracting the likes of any men that were willing to pay; it was a cesspool for the depraved and lecherous, and for Elizabeth, a little private feeding grounds. Elizabeth tilted her head in wonderment and slight curiosity as they entered that place. "Is this to your liking, Elizabeth?" he looked to her.

She looked around at the drunkards and prostitutes before glancing down with blushing cheeks and gave a curt nod. Letting go of his arm, Elizabeth began to walk ahead of him. She appeared shy and unsure as she walked in silence. Her hands were folded in front of her as she waited for the right person to come along.

Angelus watched from a distance as she walked away from him, his eyes ever focused on her slow moving figure. As the young woman made her presence known in that area, she caught the attention of men there, looking almost lost as she looked too proper to be a prostitute. There were some jeers and catcalls as she stepped by, till a man who was bold enough, or perhaps was too uninhibited by his drink, stepped up in front of her.

"What's a pretty girl doing in this area of town?" he grinned, glancing at her from head to toe. "Are you lost, pretty one? Have you got a home to return to? Perhaps you'd like to come back to mine," he cackled at his last comment and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

As Elizabeth walked, she squeezed her hands with every catcall, clenching them out of both fear and building anger. Glancing slightly up at the man, she nodded, "I-I am sure I can find my way," she said with a half genuine look of fear as she tried to make her way past him. He was drunk, that she knew, but was he a monster?

"Hold on, girlie," he placed a hand on her shoulder, preventing her from getting by. At this unwelcome gesture, he was met by jeers and whistles from his unruly audience. "Why are you in such a rush? 'Tis rude to leave without properly introducing yourself," he leered at her, showing his yellowed teeth as he giggled. His hand remain affixed to her shoulder and it swept down lower to her arm before he stumbled forward. Elizabeth gasped as she caught him, only to learn what his true intentions were. With his chest now pressed against her front, his arms had found their way around her lower back as they encircled tightly around her form, "Oh, pardon me, love, 'tis the drink in me," he laughed, taking a deep breath as his nose grazed along her hair and the side of her face. Elizabeth fought to get him off of her. "You smell like roses," he laughed, "soft like one, too," his voice lowering.

She shuddered in fear and disgust, "P-please, let me go…," she said with a soft push. This would be his last chance.

The man laughed at her feeble outcry and attempt at unhanding him, "Oh, a feisty one, ain't you?" he clung to her all the more, daring to take another whiff of her hair. "Might you squeal a little louder, love? I'd like to know how you sound like when I take you in my bed," he roared, lowering his hand to squeeze at her backside. Elizabeth gasped and whimpered as she began to put up more of a fight the more insistent he became. The fact that he was drunk did not matter, for nothing could turn a man into a monster but his own evil heart.

The men that watched roared in laughter at her reaction, "Take her to bed!" one man cried.

"Teach her a good lesson!" another added. The prostitutes only giggled at how innocent the girl was, wandering into a dark alley like that, naïve enough to believe she'd be spared. This would be the folly of her curiosity and a life lesson.

The man heaved her up into his arms as he backed away from the others, "Hear that? They want I should give you a proper lesson. A good spanking perhaps," he laughed. Elizabeth only flushed and trembled as she struggled in his arms. "But I'm a gentleman," he leered. "Best to do this in private." His form of privacy was just the turn around the bend where rotten food and garbage were littered on the wet pavement. He tossed her lightly against the brick wall and loomed in closer towards her, already grabbing at the buttons on his trousers, "Are you ready to be punished?" he chuckled. Angelus had managed to keep his distance, watching as the man accosted his great grandprogeny, but did nothing to stop it from happening. He waited to see what she would now do as the situation only grew worse.

With her back against the wall, Elizabeth sank down lower with canted head, allowing her face to be masked by darkness, "You didn't have to do this…," she shook as she wept, as she heard his trousers come undone. Feeling him come closer, she grabbed him by the shirt as if she was making one last attempt to dissuade him before her demon face looked up at him. She spun them around, now reversing their positions as she pinned him to the wall, then bit into his neck. She drank deeply with her nails still buried in the sides of his skull as tears fell down her face. When he stopped struggling, she dropped him on his side and cleaned herself up before tearing at the laces of her dress. She ran out of the alley with tears still streaming down her face.

The crowd of men only laughed and cheered at the sight of her torn dress, and the prostitutes scoffed, shaking their heads as she was too young to understand the dark underbelly of the city. As Elizabeth fled from that scene, her tears blurring her vision, a man's body came abruptly into her path, causing her to smash into his chest.

He took hold of her arms, "Are those tears of joy? Or sorrow, dear?" Angelus asked softly, his hands now pressed gently against her back as he cradled her in his arms. Recognising his soothing voice, Elizabeth hugged him tightly as she openly cried into his chest. She shook her head at both questions, obviously pained and confused. "Shshsh, 'tis all right now, precious," he stroked her hair gently, letting his palm lower to sooth her shaking back as he rocked her body ever so slightly. Elizabeth trembled in his arms. "Does it pain you so much to know that you've taken a life, despite one such as his? He's played that same hand dozens of times with young women in similar circumstances. What you've done was save the trauma of all the innocent girls who would have been hurt by him in the future. You're a saviour, Elizabeth; what you did was just. And ultimately, his blood is keeping you well and fed." He lifted her chin with a finger as he brushed at the tears on her face, "There's no one left who would pity or mourn his death, you see?" he gave her a reassuring smile. Elizabeth looked to him with the weakest of smiles. What she did was not wrong. If it was not her, it would be another girl. Men like him would never change. They would continue with their ways till the day they died. Who better to end their ways than her? Angelus helped to lift and straighten the torn dress over her bare shoulders, then removed his own coat and draped it on her much smaller frame, "Is that better?" he smoothed his hands over her arms and smiled at her gently.

Looking up at him, Elizabeth whispered, "I… want to go home," she pressed her forehead to his chest.

"Of course, dear," Angelus held her close to his side as they walked along, letting her lean against him for support.

No one would have guessed it from a glimpse at the two what had actually transpired, as he was just a man who had offered a young woman his coat, and she appeared so moved by his gesture that she was in tears. Now the young lovers were left seen departing with her weary head resting on his shoulder.

Angelus let his smile shine through.

┼†‡

Upon returning to the manor, Angelus turned to Elizabeth, "Is there anything I can get for you, dear? Some soothing tea, perhaps?"

Now calm and exhausted from crying, Elizabeth looked to her new mentor and nodded, "Tea would be lovely, thank you," she said softly. Quietly excusing herself, and hoping that she wouldn't be seen from any other members of the household- let alone her own sire- she made her way up to her room and changed. With a pillow in her arms, she lay on her bed with her hair neatly pleated and now dressed in a clean and whole day dress as she waited for the tea to be brought to her room.

┼†‡

As the maid had some more tea prepared for Elizabeth, Angelus took the liberty of taking it off her hands and bringing it up himself. Knocking softly on her door, he entered and found her clean and presentable without a trace of what had just transpired. Elizabeth did not look up at who entered the room at first, expecting the maid until the voice of Angelus followed the opening door.

"Your tea," he smiled, setting the tray down on the bed as he took a seat on the edge. She sat up. "And I asked the maid to sneak a small portion of cake as well." Elizabeth giggled at that. He glanced at her form before continuing, "Are you feeling better?"

Elizabeth smiled a little and nodded, "I am."

"I didn't know you'd take such great lengths to ruin such a pretty dress. Allow me to buy you a new one," he offered.

"Oh, please do not go to the trouble. It is but a little tear; it is easily repairable," she said as she toyed with her braid.

"It isn't any trouble at all," he smiled at her, "even if you had it mended, I'd still love it if I could have a new dress presented to you. Consider it a gift. Whether it's a welcoming gift, or for your birt'day, it's entirely up to you. I just… miss doting on my little sister is all," Angelus said a little more carefully. Elizabeth giggled at his offer, finally having a affectionate brother figure sans the torture.

She looked to him before pouring herself a cup of tea, "Thank you, Angelus. You are very kind," she sipped at her tea quietly. "Peppermint? " she asked with raised brows, looking up at him. "How did you…?"

He tapped at his nose, "I noticed it in the library," he smiled. "I figured that must be somet'ing to your liking."

The young vampire sipped her tea happily, now having her favourite tea and a little cake to lift her spirits, "Thank you. Peppermint has always been my favourite."

Angelus glanced about her room when the portraiture of her and Spike caught his eye. "You took a portraiture with him," he leaned forward. "May I?"

Elizabeth turned to her portrait and nodded, "Of course," she said gesturing to the picture with her hand.

"The image of your smile was captured perfectly," he stated as he glanced down at it within his grasp, "but William, he looks glum as ever," he arched his brows slightly at that. "Where did you have this taken?" he asked, setting it back on her nightstand.

"We had it taken during the Exhibition in Brussels. It was a wonderful experience," she said as she thought back to their fun before they found the demon realm.

"Oh?" he raised his brows at that. "I never pegged him for one to explore exhibitions. Seems we learn something new about each other every day," he gave a small nod. "We've hardly even chatted about your experiences. Perhaps we can exchange tales of your adventures tomorrow evening?" he suggested as he noted the late hour. He picked up his coat and headed to the door, "I'll come by later tomorrow evening to remind you about the ballet. We shall leave at 7 o'clock and arrive by half past. The show won't begin till eight." Pausing at the door, he gave a final salute before shutting the door behind him, "Have a lovely evening, Elizabeth."


	24. Day 23: Coppélia

Elizabeth woke up in the early evening to properly get ready for the ballet. Dressing her hair in loose curls, she had it pulled up and allowed for a few loose locks to frame her face. Once done, she pinched her cheeks to pass for a more healthy and rosy look, then slipped on the blue dress she had bought in Frankfurt. Just as she was putting her finishing touches on her ensemble, a soft knock came at her bedroom door.

"It is close to the hour, my dear. Do you need more time?" Angelus asked from behind the oak wood. He had taken on a suave look for a trim, black tailcoat, vest, and cummerbund. His ascot tie was white silk that matched his white gloves. Atop his head was a top hat and within his grasp a cane. Angelus also took to taming his hair and had it neatly tied back with a black ribbon.

"I'm ready," Elizabeth called out as she walked to answer the door. As she opened it, she greeted him with a smile.

"You look lovely, Elizabeth," Angelus smiled, offering his arm for her to take. "Blue suits you well."

Elizabeth smiled as a flush added colour to her already pinched cheeks, "Thank you. You look handsome yourself," she said in a sweet and shy tone as she took his arm. They descended the stairway and approached the doors when they happened upon Spike and Drusilla who were also about to leave for their outing. Spike was chuckling at something as he dashed blindly forward, only to slow when he glanced up to notice them in his way.

"Well, well, well," Spike's eyes flickered over their dress, "look at the two of you, all gussied up." Drusilla held onto Spike's hand as she smiled at them. "Methinks it might even be a date," he commented, raising his brows.

"We're just heading out to the ballet, William," Angelus began. "You're free to come if you please, but you may need to change into something more suitable," he glanced down at the state of Spike's wardrobe, "you still have some supper on it from last night, I believe." Spike glanced down at where Angelus was indicating with his stare, where there indeed, were long dripping stains of blood that had now dried and oxidised, turning its once bright red into an unsightly brown.

"What?" Spike lifted his head to look back at him. "He happened to be struggling. And we were caught out in the downpour," he said defensively. "Besides," he sniffed, "haven't had time to get any new clothes since we got here."

"We can't afford to wait for you, William. The carriage is already waiting for us outside," Angelus sighed. "Perhaps another time."

"I wasn't suggesting that I wished to come with you, _Angelus_ ," Spike sneered.

"All the same. The state of your dress is poor and ungainly. The keep will start to whisper," Angelus warned.

"Oh, bother," Spike rolled his eyes.

"We shall get you a proper suit tonight, love," Drusilla looked to him, "along with a warm supper," her smile appeared to settle him down a bit.

"You're so smart, pet," Spike chuckled, "what would I do without you?" Drusilla giggled back at him in turn.

"Not much, I'd imagine," Angelus commented, only to clear his throat shortly after.

"Hey," Spike glared as he narrowed his eyes at Angelus.

Drusilla glanced at Elizabeth, her eyes looking to her in wonder as she smiled, "You've gotten lighter, lovey. 'Tis better now, yes?" she giggled.

"I feel a little better," Elizabeth said to Drusilla with a small smile. Looking to her sire, she glanced down with a soft sigh. Even when he had tried to take her to the opera, he had left after the first act. "It would be nice if you two would join us," she added.

"I wouldn't want to impose," Spike said sarcastically.

"Come now, Elizabeth, let's not waste any more time dawdling," Angelus pulled Elizabeth away and up into the awaiting coach. Spike watched as their carriage rode off down the road, wondering why Angelus had suddenly taken an interest with his progeny. He didn't know whether Angelus had other ulterior motives, which would have been very likely considering his track record, but Elizabeth was now a member of their unconventional family. And Elizabeth actually looked at ease and happy for once. Much better off than she was with him, it seemed. Spike shook those thoughts away as Drusilla pulled him close, and they continued with their evening prowl.

┼†‡

When Angelus and Elizabeth arrived at the theatre house, they were escorted into a private box that overlooked the lower audience and stage. The orchestra were just fine-tuning their instruments and the crowds were filing into their seats.

Angelus settled comfortably into his own chair and removed his hat as he peered over the spectacle below, "I always look forward to events such as these," he sighed happily, a look of anticipation on his cheerful face. "When was the last time you enjoyed yourself at the theatre?" he asked, turning to Elizabeth.

"While we were in Frankfurt, William took me to an opera. He… left after the first act, but the performance was so wonderful, I did not notice after a few minutes into the second act," she smiled at him before turning to glance at the programme she held within her hands.

"Ah," Angelus raised his brows ever so slightly, "were you, now? Well, rest assured, I shan't be abandoning you," he gave her a warm smile and a reassuring pat on the hand. Turning back around to face the stage, the set was finally ready and the orchestra began to play. A blanket of silence descended upon the audience as a lithe and elegant dancer flitted across the stage. Angelus watched, fixated, as his eyes followed her every movement.

As the scene of the first act unfolded, it told the story of a couple that had planned to marry. However, it became clear that the male, Franz, had become captivated by another girl by the name of Coppélia who lived with an evil inventor called Doctor Coppélius. He often caught sight of Coppélia motionless as she read on her balcony. Swanhilda, the broken-hearted lover, believed that Franz no longer loved her and fled. She happened to find the keys of Doctor Coppélius after he was heckled by a group of boys, and she and her female friends decided to steal into his house to learn more about Coppélia. Franz also had his own idea to meet Coppélia secretly by way of ladder. As the first act ended, Angelus was intrigued with where they were left and was anxious to learn more.

"Riveting, isn't it?" he breathed as he turned to Elizabeth. Elizabeth smiled at him with a little laugh. She had found it to be such a wonderful and complex story about love and misunderstandings. As the dancers spun on stage, it was as if nothing else existed but the performance; she felt herself being pulled out of her own world and onto the onstage herself.

After the short intermission, the second act held a much darker tone. As Swanhilda and her friends found themselves in a large room, they discovered they were not alone- they were surrounded by people. However, these were not ordinary people. They appeared frozen in their positions, and were in actuality, large mechanical dolls. Upon winding them up, they began to move. This eluded to the discovery of Coppélia, who was hidden behind a curtain, and that she too, was a doll. Doctor Coppélius soon returned home to find Swanhilda and her friends trespassing in his home, and enraged that they had disturbed his workroom, banished them. When he found Franz at the window though, he invited him in. Offering Franz some wine laced with sleeping powder, Doctor Coppélius planned to use him as a sacrifice so that he could bring Coppélia to life; using magic, he would ultimately transfer Franz's spirit into Coppélia's doll body. However, unbeknownst to the doctor, Swanhilda lay in hiding behind the curtain. She had taken to dress like Coppélia and pretended that she had come to life. Waking up Franz, she wound up the dolls as a distraction as a means of escape, leaving the doctor confused and saddened to discover his lifeless Coppélia behind the curtain. That was the end of act two.

Enchanted by the story, Elizabeth leaned forward in her seat as she did the other night when she was reading her book. As the truth revealed itself, she gasped, the horror of the situation only enhanced by the beautiful dancing. Realising the doctor's plan, she gasped again with a hand cupped over her mouth but smiled as Swanhilda kept her wits about her to find a way out for them both.

Turning to Elizabeth once more, Angelus was beaming, seeing that she was one to take an affinity to darker stories, "Is this to you liking?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye. He thought that if Spike had actually been properly dressed for the evening and joined them, he might have enjoyed it as well.

"It is just… wonderful," she said softly.

"I thought you would enjoy something of this nature," Angelus replied. "I had heard about this playing in Paris, but had missed the opportunity of catching it. I'm pleased t'at it hasn't been a disappointment so far," he smiled. "It makes me wonder though, if Doctor Coppélius had actually been the one to orchestrate the entire t'ing- setting Coppélia upon the balcony to lure the eye of a man, and to later have his soul pulled from his body. Perhaps Coppélia wasn't as lifeless as she appeared to be either, wishing to find a victim to give her the life she so desired, but incapable of moving on her own accord without the aid of someone winding the pin on her back. There is one main theme that remains consistent with each of the players, that I am sure," Angelus noted, glancing down at his pocket watch, seeing that the final act was about to begin, "is t'at they're all blinded by their own illusions."

"Perhaps…," Elizabeth said softly, her voice still dreamlike, lost in the world of the story, and under the spell of the ballet as she was with her book. With a tilt of her head, all of his theories swirled around and seemed to click into place in the storyline. Perhaps this was a shared delusion in different ways. Without another word, she smiled as the curtain opened for the final act.

The stage opened to Swanhilda and Franz at their wedding. The event had taken a much lighter note, considering the dark and eerie atmosphere that was spun from the last act. But, before a happy ending could be endowed to the two lovers, Doctor Coppélius appeared before they could exchange their wedding vows, and demanded they pay for his damages. Swanhilda, guilty for causing his distress, offered her dowry in exchange for forgiveness. Franz, wanting to protect his soon-to-be-wife, stopped her and instead offered to pay. As it turned out, neither groom nor bride had to offer the doctor any compensation when the mayor intervened and handed him a bag of money. The finale ended on a joyous note with the two happily being married, and the town celebrating in a lively and festive dance.

Angelus stood from his chair, applauding with gusto as he smiled and happily cheered, "Bravo! Lovely! Just brilliant!" He turned to smile at Elizabeth, "It appears the only true winners were the townsfolk. They wished to see a wedding, and they got one," he laughed.

Elizabeth had also stood in applause as she beamed, "Just beautiful! I suppose no matter how dark things get, good always triumphs in one way or another," she said with a sweet tone. "This was such a lovely ballet. Thank you so much for bringing me, Angelus."

"I assure you, the pleasure was all mine," he chuckled, readying himself to leave as he replaced his hat atop his head and offered his arm to her. Elizabeth smiled as she cradled her hand in the crook of his arm. "To have such lovely company to share this experience with, makes all the difference," Angelus said, leading them outside. "Perhaps we could forego the trip on the carriage and instead have a pleasant stroll along the Promenade des Anglais instead," he suggested. "We'd be surrounded by the lovely scenery and I'll have my turn at playing catch-up with your stories," he smiled.

Looking up at the sky, Elizabeth nodded, "It is a lovely night- clear sky, nice breeze…," she said softly as she looked at him, "I would love a walk." They walked arm in arm at a leisurely pace, passing by storefronts that began to close shop.

┼†‡

"Right from the top, where did your adventure begin?" Angelus inquired curiously. "You've come a long way from home, haven't you, my dear? Have you ever travelled so far before?" he smiled sweetly.

Elizabeth laughed a little, "My life has not been exciting until a few weeks ago."

"It appears you've gotten yourself trapped in quite a whirlwind," Angelus chuckled.

"Up until… that night, I had never left the manor. I would go to social settings with my mother, but other than that, I was kept home," she said softly, almost missing her old life. Confinement would have been a nice price to pay just to see them again.

He noticed the change of her voice as she withdrew into her thoughts, "I'll help to ensure t'at this transition to your new life is as gentle as possible. We won't rush you into anyt'ing at all. You've possibly seen more these past few weeks than one would in a normal lifetime," he teased. "If it would make you more comfortable, I could have Drusilla help you arrange social settings here," he paused to glance down, as he looked a bit apprehensive, "although, I'm sure her idea of one would require a gathering of dolls instead of ladies."

Elizabeth smiled at him, touched that he showed such concern for her, "That is kind of you to say, but I honestly did not care for them much. I do however love Drusilla's company- dolls and all. She is so much like a elder sister to me," she said with a giggle.

"I can tell she shares the same affections," Angelus nodded, "I've never seen her behave so maternal before. Bit of a surprise, really," he continued as they made their way along the promenade; the sound of the waves were calming and hypnotic. "I suppose other than wanting a companion, she also needed someone whom she could share a sororal bond with, t'at is, other than her grandmother," Angelus looked to her. "My sire, Darla. She's not in the picture at the moment; spending time with hers," he sighed, waving his hand at the idea of this other missing member of their family. "But Dru never doted on her as she does with you. You seem to bring out a different side in her…," he pondered that. He chuckled and looked to her, "But, yes, if you did not care for socials then, we certainly wouldn't let you drown in more misery. Parties and dances would be more exciting, wouldn't they? And certainly more trips to the theatre."

At that thought, Elizabeth's smile brightened, "I would love that very much. I am not much for parties, but I suppose I could grow to enjoy them," she said softly. "You see, I was not allowed to go to parties like my brother. 'What would a young lady expect from going to a party?'" she said in a gruff voice as she pretended to be her father.

Angelus laughed at her imitation, "Sounds like a man who was a little too protective of his darling daughter. Probably didn't want to fend off all the suitors t'at were lined up outside your door," he teased. "You are at the appropriate age to look for suitors, are you not? Was the idea of marriage ever in your sights in the near future?" He patted her hand as he looked to her once more, "And not to worry, I'm sure you'll be turning all the heads at the parties. If you've never gone to one before, you don't know what it's like. You cannot rule out the prospect of enjoyment if you've never experienced one."

Elizabeth blushed as she glanced down, "My father was talking to a prospective woman to whom to marry her son. He would not even tell me his name and was going to plan an engagement party; I did not know him, but Father was so sure of himself."

"So you are to say you were betrothed to this man? Whom you had never met?" Elizabeth shook her head. Angelus raised his brows, "From the sounds of it, I dare say it was a political move on your father's part. Having no explanation and being so adamant about this union without your prior knowledge, consent, or approval, he was possibly securing ties with his own agenda in mind. Not to sound cruel about it, Elizabeth, but I know well how powerful men must behave in order to ensure they remain in power." Elizabeth nodded slightly, understanding the reason within his words.

"The entire idea seemed so strange to me. It was one of the reasons why I turned to the church," Elizabeth now revealed.

Angelus let a small smile appear on his lips, his overall expression softening as she shared more of her vulnerabilities, "One final rebellious act t'at would leave a father devastated and perhaps hopeful. The reception from the public would be a grateful one, I'm sure, but a man would have lost his only daughter to the likes of God Himself." He walked on, pausing then, "I apologise for dredging up such memories of your family life. You must miss them terribly."

"I do…," she whispered.

"Let's change the topic to one with a lighter tone. Your interests- you mentioned books and literature as one of them," Angelus began as the manor began to loom just in their sights, "maybe you could share some of your favourites with me."

Looking up at him, Elizabeth parted with a small smile, "Well, there is Dickens, Shelley, of course, and Poe. But my most favourite author of all is Shakespeare. His plays are just masterpieces, and some are so funny. 'Midsummer Night's Dream' is my favourite play, but if it concerns poetry, it would have to be 'Sonnet XVIII'," Elizabeth's tone grew happier the more she spoke of her beloved authors.

"Shakespeare seems to be a crowd favourite," Angelus laughed, pushing the door open to the estate. "I cannot recall how that one entails," he closed the door after she stepped in. "Would it be a bother if I asked you to recite it for me?" he asked, looking hopeful.

Elizabeth smiled and looked down timidly, "It would not be a bother… at all," she said softly. As they walked back into the library, they resumed their spots at the window seats. Angelus looked to Elizabeth as she began to recite the poem and got lost in the Bard's words:

_"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?_  
_Thou art more lovely and more temperate:_  
_Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,_  
_And summer's lease hath all too short a date:_  
_Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,_  
_And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;_  
_And every fair from fair sometime declines,_  
_By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd;_  
_But thy eternal summer shall not fade_  
_Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;_  
_Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,_  
_When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st;_  
_So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,_  
_So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."_

Elizabeth recited the poem with a soft and elegant tone as she let her sweet smile shine through. It was apparent that there was a trace of happiness and hope in her voice as she recited the poem that she so loved. She appeared transfixed, transported, perhaps even a bit possessed as her eyes lost focus, looking distant, and even a bit romantic. Although a little socially reversed and perhaps emotionally repressed in everyday situations where she could not portray her true emotions, at that very moment she managed to express herself freely in her voice, and the way her body appeared to finally relax. Angelus took to applauding gently as she finished, beaming at her like any proud father would.

"That's lovely, dear. I could truly feel what he meant by those words by the way you spoke. So much depth, so much compassion. I'd really love it if you could entertain me with more of these readings on a daily basis. Perhaps after our nightly rounds, this could be a means to wind down from a full day's of events," he peered at her with his chin resting lightly on a fisted hand.

Elizabeth looked down with a little laugh as she cupped her cheek in her hand, becoming all the more bashful at his words of praise, "Thank you. I would like that myself… I truly love to read. It is very nice to know someone who would appreciate it," she said as she glanced up at him with a sweet smile filled with appreciation. With Angelus' gentle coaxing, Elizabeth finally felt relaxed, calm, and… happy.

Angelus chuckled a bit at her response, a glint of his teeth peeking through between his lips, "I'll hold you to t'at, then. A reading every night." With their evening finally turning out wonderfully and without a hitch, Angelus escorted her to her bedroom door and leaned down to give her a small peck on her hand. As he straightened up, he gave her a little charming twirl of his wrist and bow as he had done a couple nights before, "I bid you a good night, m'dear," he smiled.

Elizabeth giggled and smiled happily at his humorous antics, "Good night, Angelus." With her door now closed, Elizabeth had probably believed him to retire to his own room, but Angelus had other plans in mind.

┼†‡

Taking advantage of the fact that Spike and Drusilla had not returned from their evening rounds, Angelus crept softly into their room. He stood there in the centre as he removed his gloves, smirking as his eyes wandered around the area, and at his grandprogeny's impromptu choice to relocate for the lone reason of Angelus' scent lingering in Drusilla's quarters. Spike could try to distance them from him, but he could never escape the clutches Angelus had on Drusilla's mind- he was the one who had crafted her, after all. Trailing a hand lightly over the top of the vanity table and the objects placed haphazardly on it- a hair brush, bottles of perfumes, jars of salves, powders, and whatnot- he peered at the tiny porcelain doll that was perched atop and grimaced. It was an idea to keep his childlike progeny entertained with only the two of them travelling alone together, but she had entirely taken to the notion of this 'Miss Edith' as she so called it. It had even happened to evoke more insanity from her, if that was at all possible. Angelus sighed and let it be, thinking what harm one doll could do.

He moved towards the wardrobe chest and opened it, gingerly fingering the clothes that hung suspended there like inanimate ghosts, hovering and drifting with the gentle prodding of his fingers. All of them were dresses, coats, and undergarments of Drusilla's. As Spike had confessed earlier that evening, he 'hadn't had time to get new clothes yet'. Angelus understood that this change of uncaring for his state of dress was to enhance his ruffian-like behaviour, but it was unsightly. And when it came to circumstances that Angelus had to keep up a façade to hide his vampire nature, he was often embarrassed to have Spike following him around and associating himself with the likes of him. He supposed having a male in their group was a refreshing change of pace, having another whom he could bond with, and one who had a more masculine outlook on things that only they could understand. And admittedly, they had their shares of good times, kills, and mayhem; when William the Bloody let loose and killed, he made a killing at it.

Angelus drifted towards the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. It was filled with more of Drusilla's undergarment wear such as stockings and garters, but Angelus caught whiff of the smell of ink and heard a clatter that sounded like something rolling with the small force of the drawer moving forward. He moved his hand to the back of the compartment and felt around before pulling out a small, metallic and black brooch. Turning it within his forefinger and thumb, he made out the configuration of a serpent entwined in the formation of a three-cornered lover's-knot- ending where it began in an eternal loop. It was also the symbol of ouroboros, with the serpent consuming its own tail. It was ebony black, but the serpent's body encircled three smaller gems- diamonds, he believed. It was a rather curious object for the likes of one like Spike to possess, Angelus thought. He pocketed that in his trousers and continued to pilfer on, having brushed at some pages in the back when he had retrieved the brooch, and now pulled out some folded papers. Unbending the folds, Angelus looked down at the first page and his brows arched slightly as his eyes skimmed over the words that were written down.

The lettering was scrawled over it, almost hastily, as though the writer's hand could barely keep up with the words in his head. There were some lines dashed through some words which didn't fit the scheme of the verse, and blotches of uneven ink dotted some areas now and then as the pen took to resting there for a little too long. Smudging was inevitable if the writer wasn't careful with letting the ink dry properly, but it was even more difficult for one that was left-handed, having to drag across the page where the written system ran from left to right.

"Hmph," Angelus hummed thoughtfully as he took a seat on the sofa situated in the room, flipping to the next page to continue. He began to smile and laugh as he read the remaining pages there, until the sound of Spike and Drusilla approaching caused him to glance up.

Spike was still very much caught up with the rush of the night, being distracted with Drusilla as she chattered in her innocent and childlike ways that he hadn't initially thought about the smell of Angelus in his room, considering he was used to the scent of him being there in the entire house. But when he sauntered in, he noticed a figure from the corner of his eye, and it caused him to balk and turn to look. "Angelus," he said, surprised and caught off guard at the smiling male before him.

" _William,"_ Angelus replied, an amused smile on his lips. Spike took to noticing the papers in his hands and his eyes widened. Whipping his head to glance in the direction of the dresser, he noticed that the top drawer remained open before he turned back to look at Angelus, his expression now angry.

"You bloody little snoop!" Spike growled, taking some aggressive steps towards him. "What the bloody hell are you doing in our room!"

Angelus chuckled as he pulled himself from his seat, "I had no idea you were still active in your craft ' _William the Bloody',"_ he teased, gesturing with the hand that held the papers.

Spike glared at him, a heat emanating from his eyes that could burn holes into the other's skull, "Return those, you unsavoury serpent!"

Angelus took a step away as Spike motioned to make a grab for them, only to just skim at the edges, "My, my, is that really the way you see me, William? Such a vile and dark light you paint me in," Angelus said, looking back down at the paper in front of him. "' _Hark! A demon in human guise. / Beware his cunning, silvered tongue, / 'Tis a stream of poison lies,'"_ Angelus recited. Spike reached to grab them again, only to have Angelus duck and spin, totally avoiding his arm as his eyes remained fixated at the page, "I particularly like this stanza: ' _Blacker than the blackest plagues descending o'er the lands, / For child, woman, nor Saint is spared / once in the clutches of his hands.'_ "

Spike growled, "Oh, c'mon with it, now! Let's hear your words of ridicule, eh? Get on with it and let me be!" he let loose a frustrated breath of air, no longer caring. Angelus had already read them and he was prepared for an onslaught of mockery as he was accustomed to.

"'Ridicule'?" Angelus looked to him in surprise, then laughed. "Why? Do you t'ink t'at I don't like it? I _love_ it!" he cried. Spike did not expect a response like that at all, especially from the likes of Angelus.

His hardened look softened to one of surprise, not quite believing what was happening, "You… you do…?" Spike asked tentatively, almost hopefully.

"Yes, man!" Angelus laughed and smacked Spike on the back of the shoulder as a means of reassurance.

Spike let loose an awkward smile, not being used to this kind of reception at all, "I-I didn't know that you would…," he said with uncertainty.

"I hadn't heard anyt'ing else save for the one about t'ings being effervescent-"

"Effulgent," Spike corrected him, "about Cecily."

"Yes, that," Angelus pointed, "but even so, I thought it was enjoyable." Spike peered up at his sire, wondering if this was indeed a sincere act of kindness and appreciation or if he had other means to warm up to him. "And the one about this 'mouse'," Angelus laughed, turning to said poem, "does she know about it?"

"Uh, no, no she doesn't. Don't think she knows that I actually write poetry. I mentioned that I once aspired to be one in the past, but it wasn't something we dwelled on," Spike replied more civilly.

Angelus continued to laugh, "It was a riot; had me well near tears," Angelus complimented, giving him another smack on the shoulder.

"It was?" Spike looked to him once more, still not believing his words.

"William! Be more confident in your works!" Angelus said to him, finally relinquishing the papers.

Spike looked down at them as he collected them in his hands, "I… never had much reason to be," he said a little more quietly.

"But next time, have me written with more evil if you can. Really dredge it up," Angelus requested.

"William pours words from his head to his fingers only when pricked from the spindle," Drusilla said from the bed, motioning with her fingers as she pointed at her temple then wiggled her fingers in front of her. She gave a small smile as she lolled her head against her raised shoulder, peering at the two men from the side.

"It's… true," Spike admitted, "words don't come to me naturally unless I'm inspired so I've only done so as a means to…," he trailed off.

"Cope?" Angelus answered for him. "Voice your vexations? Humour your ill spirits? Quell your demons?" Angelus grinned.

"…Yes," Spike said with more resignation as he glanced down, which was in a way for him confessing that writing the poems about Angelus were during times he had angered him, and the one of Elizabeth when he could not stand her following him around everywhere. Most recently, he had written two pieces having discovered Angelus' and Drusilla's affair when he was absent. Angelus made no mention of those though, which Spike was a bit thankful for.

"It appears t'at everyone's in the mood for poetry tonight," Angelus hummed, returning to his seat on the sofa as he slumped down. "Elizabeth shared her love for Shakespeare and recited her favourite sonnet to me in the library this evening."

"Oh?" Spike glanced up at him as he folded the papers within his grasp, quite surprised at this turn of events.

"Yes, Sonnet XVIII," Angelus smiled. "You're quite versed in his works, aren't you? Do you know of it?"

"I do," Spike replied, "one of his most famous sonnets. It's really lovely," he commented. It was a poem he once believed described what he felt for Cecily, but as it turned out, wasn't. He now attributed it to his current lover, Drusilla. "What is it that you want though, Angelus? Why were you waiting in our room?" Spike returned to the first question he had demanded of him, feeling that there was more reason than to just have his sire compliment his poetry.

"Ah, yes," Angelus waved his hand in the air, "I just wanted to inform you that Maurizio has invited us all to a party next week."

"A party!" Drusilla clapped excitedly from the bed.

"We're to be nondescript, precious, no bloodbaths at this one," Angelus said gently. Drusilla whined and fidgeted in response. "Now, now, in due time, you'll have your fill. In the meanwhile, you'll just have to take your urges elsewhere."

"All right, Daddy," she replied, her lips in a pout.

"Is that was all you wanted to tell us?" Spike asked. "You couldn't wait for the next evening?"

Angelus stood and walked by him, "I wanted to give Drusilla some ample time to pick the right dress for the event," he said, standing in front of his 'daughter'. Spike watched him curiously as he passed by. "I've got somet'ing for you, dear," Angelus smiled.

"A gift?" Drusilla looked up at him, smiling and expectant. Spike watched from a distance, curious what it was that Angelus was pulling from his pocket and putting on her.

"Oh, it's lovely!" Drusilla gasped.

"T'ought it would match you," Angelus smiled, "it's a lover's-knot. A symbol of eternal love."

"Look, Willy!" Drusilla bounded up from the bed and ran to show Spike, "Look at what Daddy got for your princess," she beamed, glancing down at her chest where the brooch was pinned by her collar. "Black like the serpent as we are soulless," she beamed, touching at it gingerly with splayed fingers. Spike looked to it in shock. It was clearly _his_ brooch, and Angelus had found it along with his collection of poetry and claimed it as his own to present to her!

"You lyin' little thief!" Spike barked at him.

Angelus smiled as he walked forward, "Do you not like the gift I got her?"

"You know well you didn't get that for her, it's _mine!_ " Spike spat, forgetting all the peppered words of flattery Angelus had bestowed upon him.

"My, William, I assumed t'at it was just something t'at was misplaced. Didn't believe somet'ing so refined belonged to the likes of you," Angelus chuckled.

"C'mon, Dru, let me remove it," Spike said, moving forward to take the brooch off of her.

"No," she whined, putting a protective hand over it and moving away slightly. "Is this not meant for me, Willy?"

"Mm, n-no darling, not entirely, I just haven't had time to present it to you, is all," Spike tried to explain, not wanting her to get upset.

"Then it is for me? It's mine?" she pouted at him, her brows still drawn together over her large eyes.

"Well, seems I've helped to facilitate t'ings, seeing as you weren't sure as to when to give it to her," Angelus chuckled, finally removing himself from their room.

Spike glared as he watched Angelus leave, then returned back to the task at hand, "Yes, i-it's yours. But it's from me, not Angelus," Spike said to her, resolving the mix-up.

"Oh, Willy, I love it!" Drusilla leaned forward and kissed him. Pressing herself forward for a hug, she rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"So… Drusilla," Spike began.

"Hmm?"

"Do you feel at all… peculiar?"

She pulled back and looked at him, "Whatever do you mean?" Drusilla blinked as a small crease returned to her brow.

"I mean, different from your usual… peculiarities," Spike carefully explained.

"No…," Drusilla trailed off as she thought of this.

"Oh," Spike replied, a little befuddled. Besides being upset that Angelus had claimed his brooch as his own gift to Drusilla, Spike was also worried what effects the brooch might have had on her considering it was a stolen trinket that contained one of the effects of the seven deadly sins, one of which he had witnessed had taken a terrible toll on Elizabeth with gluttony. "Well, let's just remove it now and get ready for bed, shall we?" Spike smiled up at her. Drusilla finally nodded and allowed him to remove the piece of jewellery that she now claimed as her own. They retired to bed just as the sun was beginning to rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the title of this chapter doesn't follow the poem rule, or literary work. It's actually a ballet. But, I thought that it fits well into the scheme of things, and since it's based off a couple of written works, I thought, 'eh, why the heck not'. I hope that me explaining the actual story of the ballet wasn't that much of a turn-off (or spoil things...? I don't know). I'll just say that, everything that I mention within the story has good reason. You guys taking notes? lol


	25. Day 24: The Times are Nightfall

Elizabeth woke up with a yawn. Dressed in a white dress with a baby blue sash, and a blue hair ribbon to match, she stepped out into the halls with a little box nestled in her hands as she began to look for her grandsire.

Spike had cleaned himself up before donning a new wardrobe by the protest of Angelus' warning. He supposed, though, that he'd need another more fashionable ensemble for the party that they would be attending the following week, unsure of why he even bothered to agree to it. Considering the likes of Maurizio, he rather knew how the guests there would behave- they'd be like the ones at home, snobs and elitists that he couldn't bear to stand. He might have been born in the same socioeconomic class, but he was far removed from the likes of people of that breed. Now dressed in a clean, white shirt, grey vest, and tweed, brown wool pants, he walked out to find his mate. He flung his coat on as he stepped down the hallway, seeing Elizabeth walking towards him.

"Is that for me?" he teased.

Elizabeth shot him a glance and held up her chin in playful defiance, just as she did when she was playing 'Romeo', "I do hate to disappoint you, but no, this is for Drusilla. Where is she?" she asked as she turned to walk next to him. The young woman was in higher spirits, happier, and a little chipper; her youthful age was beginning to show a lot more now. She was more relaxed than the tense and sober way she had carried herself before.

"No need to warm up to her with gifts, she already likes you," Spike replied, curious as to what she had in the box, "I, on the other hand…," he trailed off as he glanced to the side. He gave a small chuckle and turned to her once more as she stepped in stride with him, "She took off earlier to the gardens. Probably watching the stars. Possibly naming them," he gave a little sigh. Leaving through the back entrance of the mansion, Spike stepped through the area of the garden and called out, "Drusilla, are you there? C'mon, pet, I'm not in the mood to play hide-and-seek," he said, ambling through the manicured lawns. After several minutes of peeking around hedges, he found Drusilla sitting alone on an area of grass where she was surrounded by some hedges and garden sculptures. Her dress was billowed out around her as she sat perched on the lawn faced away from them. "What are you doing sitting here alone, love?" he asked as he walked up to her.

Drusilla turned her head upwards to face him, "My tummy was all sorts of rumbles," she explained, "so I fancied a snack," she indicated at the dead hare in her clutches that lay still upon her lap, stroking its soft pelt as though it were still alive.

"Feeling better now, love?" Spike smiled at her as he hunched down to her level.

"Yes," she nodded. Drusilla glanced up at Elizabeth and smiled, "Lighter and lighter with each turn of the day," she commented, "soon so light you'll fly away."

Elizabeth smiled down at her as she sat on the grass next to her adopted older sister, "I have something for you. I think Miss Edith will like them," she said as she held out the little box. Drusilla's smile broadened as she all but dropped the hare carcass, letting it thud softly in the grass. She tore into the package and squealed in delight. Inside were silk ribbons of red, black, blue, and white.

"Oh, Miss Edith will be delirious with excitement!" Drusilla breathed, pressing the box to her chest and accidentally spilling out most of its content without realising it.

"Um, sweet," Spike pulled at the box and helped to stuff the ribbons back in.

"Is it my birfday?" Drusilla glanced down with a look of confusion on her face. "Has three years passed around? Each day appears to be so," she glanced back up at the two of them, indicating at the recent influx of gifts she had been receiving.

Spike had finished tidying up his lover's mess and closed the lid, "No, kitten, we only want to give you presents because we love you," he chuckled.

"Aw," her expression softened as her hands moved to clutch at her chest, "that is so sweet," she said softly, responding normally for once, and actually resembling someone who was coherent. "But perhaps it is Miss Edith's birfday, as these are ribbons for her hair and not mine," Drusilla said, pulling a strand of her curls to glance at, quickly reverting back to her disjointed stammering.

Elizabeth giggled, "You can wear them too if you like. I have plenty in there for Miss Edith and for you to share," she said sweetly.

"Yes, I shall steal a ribbon to fix in my hair when she isn't looking," Drusilla giggled.

Spike stood and offered his hand to his lover, "Come now, pet, we'll tuck these away first and then have ourselves a grand time in the city, hmm?" She took his hand and gathered at her dress with her other hand and stood.

Looking at the pair, Elizabeth also rose to her feet and decided to leave them be for the evening. She hummed softly to herself as she walked back inside to fetch her books and settled once again on the window seat in the library.

┼†‡

Angelus rapped at the bookshelf this time to let Elizabeth know he was approaching, "Elizabeth," he smiled at her as he neared, "how are you this evening? Have you discovered what happened to the boy the monster happened upon?"

Elizabeth looked down at her book, "He… he died. The monster framed a maid for his murder," she said in a hushed tone.

"Ah," Angelus raised his brows slightly, "such a turn of events. It only needed to do t'at for means of survival. But what a sure sign of instinct and intelligence, to be able to come up with t'at idea and put blame on someone else. I would say it was somet'ing more than just a monster, don't you t'ink?" he suggested, taking slow steps towards her.

Elizabeth made a mental note of the page number before closing the book, "The monster was frightened, yes. It was new to the world and had no idea what it was doing, but a murder of an innocent boy is still wrong." She looked up and smiled happily at Angelus, "I was a little surprised to see you. I thought you would have gone for supper by now," she said as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

He chuckled at her comment, "You're keen to observe my habits as of late."

"Oh, I have always been observant," she said with a smile.

"Perhaps with my age, I am becoming predictable. But, I did happen to steal away earlier for a meal. I do, however, have a bit of surprise for you. If I could borrow you right now?" he gave her a smile.

Elizabeth's smile soon turned into a look of bright curiosity, "A surprise? For me?" she asked as she slowly stood to her feet.

"Yes," Angelus offered his hand this time for her to take. She took it and smiled with curiosity as he led her along, "I was inspired by the sight of your dress t'at you wore to the ballet last night and took it upon myself to call for a dressmaker."

"Angelus… you really shouldn't have," she said with a surprised smile as she blushed; she brought her hand to her cheek. They walked upstairs where Angelus stopped before her bedroom door and opened it to allow her in.

Walking in, they were greeted by the presence of a short and thin man. He appeared to be in his forties, had a sharp and long nose, and drooping, grey eyes. He was dressed in fitted pants that tapered and fit more snugly along his calves. His shirt was double breasted with billowy sleeves, and his vest was charcoal. With his short stature, he had some support from the added height from the heels of his shoes, giving him an additional two inches. His hair was brown, but with his coming age, and possible stress from his job, it was wrought with grey strands. The length of it was just past his shoulders, but tied back neatly with some ribbon into a pretty black bow.

"Is this the lady?" the man asked in French as they entered, placing a pair of spectacles on the bridge of his nose to peer at her.

"Yes, this is Elizabeth," Angelus replied.

The man moved forward and took her by both of her hands- just as Angelus had released her- and led her forward, "I have been anxious to meet you. We have much to do, hmm?" he smiled lightly, but his energy was invigorating. "Come," he pulled her along, leading her to the centre of the room where there was a box for her to stand on. "My name is Jean-Baptiste Gautier," he said, readjusting his spectacles, "I hear you are in need of an evening dress for a ball," he smiled, looking past the rim of his lenses to peer at her. He pulled the measuring tape from around his neck as he held it within his hand.

"Not a ball," Angelus corrected him, "a party."

"How many will be attending?" Jean-Baptiste turned to glance at him.

"Possibly more than fifty; I'd say less than one hundred. Definitely not enough to be a ball, though," Angelus mused.

"Ah," Jean-Baptiste turned back to his task, "well, I guess my plans for an extravagant ball gown shall be saved for another occasion," he shrugged and smiled back at the young woman. "I'll first need you to undress," his eyes wandered over the dress that she wore now. "Aloyse," he snapped his fingers as a girl, who apparently had been present all that time, moved forward from the shadows, making herself apparent when she was summoned, "help the mistress undress to her undergarments." The maid nodded and attended to Elizabeth. Jean-Baptiste turned to look at Angelus, "I believe you are no longer needed here. Please leave to allow for her privacy," he instructed.

"Of course," Angelus nodded. "I'll leave you to him, Elizabeth. Don't worry, you are in good hands," he smiled as he closed the door behind him.

With the other male out of the room, the dressmaker now had the freedom to carry on with his work. The assistant quickly helped to disrobe the young woman as Elizabeth turned towards her, then carefully laid her dress out on her bed to avoid any wrinkling. Now only clothed in a modest slip, Elizabeth stood idly as she glanced down and bit at her lip. She could not believe that this was happening, and that Angelus would do this for her. Unable to suppress her happiness and excitement, she let out a giddy giggle. The assistant called Aloyse, returned promptly with a notebook and pen as she stood by the dressmaker's side, waiting for further instruction. With deft fingers, Jean-Baptiste stretched out the measuring tape and pressed it gently across Elizabeth's chest, taking note of the distance from the ends of her collar bones. He rattled off some numbers for his assistant and proceeded by measuring the length of Elizabeth's arms, raising them horizontally, then placing them back down.

All the while the three were distracted with their affairs, they were unaware of the pair of dark eyes that were watching their every movement. On one of the far walls where a large tapestry was hung, was a door that lay hidden beneath it, connecting to Spike and Drusilla's bedroom. Angelus was aware that all of the rooms were interconnected, but the fact that the doors were hidden, allowed single guests to stay comfortably within their own confounds without having to worry if someone were to accidentally use that door. He watched with glinting eyes as the dressmaker nimbly stretched his tape across the half-naked youth, smiling at how innocent and vulnerable she appeared to be.

"Exciting event this shall be, yes?" Jean-Baptiste said to Elizabeth as he glanced up from his tape.

"It is. I do not go to parties much, but I am a bit excited for this one," she replied. Though Elizabeth was used to having dresses personally made for her, having one made specifically for such an occasion as a gift was foreign to her, but was a wonderful surprise all the same. She remained quiet as she followed the man's instructions as he measured her. And even though she was familiar with the dressmaker's etiquette, she couldn't help but be bashful in her state. Measuring around her bust, Jean-Baptiste quickly prattled off her measurement to Aloyse.

He lowered and began to measure the length of her legs, "What colours do you fancy? I had initially thought of something more saturated, but your complexion is rather fair. Perhaps something of a lighter quality," he smiled up at her, then glanced back down to yell out more numbers.

Elizabeth paused in thought as she thought of her favourite colours, "I love blue, white, and lavender," she said with a charming smile.

"Hmm, we shall see which colour speaks to us most, then," the dressmaker smiled up at her. Finally being done with her measurements, Jean-Baptiste walked over to his assistant and glanced over at the numbers she had recorded down, then gave a nod. "The swatches, Aloyse," he said. She nodded and went off to the corner she had previously come from, then returned with a binding of cloth swatches. Jean-Baptiste looked at a few colours and held it against Elizabeth's shoulder and neckline, comparing how it would fare against her skin tone. "Hmm," he hummed, mulling things over, "and dancing. You will be dancing, yes?" he smiled at her.

Elizabeth nodded slightly, "I will be dancing. I have never danced at a party before, unless it was with family," she said with a little giggle to her voice. Though she was laughing at the absurdity of it, she was also nervous having promised a dance with Angelus.

"It shall be a most memorable event, then," Jean-Baptiste beamed at her.

Seeing a light sky blue fabric, she tilted her head at it, "This one is so beautiful."

"Ah," Jean-Baptiste looked down at it. He held it against her neckline as he had done before and canted his head as he examined it. "Aloyse, what do you think?" he asked, finally wanting to hear the other's opinion than just have her be his personal secretary.

"Hmm," she hummed, looking to the choice, "it's fitting," she nodded.

"You see, the blue?" he turned to her and spoke more quietly.

"That was one of the first things that struck me," Aloyse turned to him as well and also lowered her voice.

Turning back around, Jean-Baptiste beamed at Elizabeth, "It appears we have found the perfect pick. Your eyes are a rather striking blue, and this colour only appears to draw it out. It definitely is a wonderful choice you have made," he nodded, happy at finding such a quick solution. "Now, the easy part is done," he said, waving his hand at Aloyse, indicating for her to gather their things, "the next step shall be more difficult, and it all weighs on my weary shoulders," he said, placing a hand over his heart. He smiled brightly all the while, "Not to worry though, I'm sure you'll be delighted with the final product. I shall return in a few days to have the dress fitted for any final alterations, and then after that, it shall be ready for your party." Aloyse had returned with Elizabeth's gown in her arms and helped to dress her before they took their leave.

Now with their things packed away in a bag, Aloyse stood by Jean-Baptiste's side as she waited for him.

Taking Elizabeth's hands in his as he had greeted her, Jean-Baptiste smiled at her, "In the next five days, I shall return for the second fitting. Till then, Mademoiselle Elizabeth," he turned to leave and beckoned for his assistant to follow.

Happily thanking the dressmaker and his assistant, Elizabeth closed the door behind them. She giggled and spun around the room before falling back on her bed. Staring up at the canopy, she was lost in the excitement of the moment. The young vampire did not have a care in the world.

┼†‡

With that final display of happiness that Elizabeth believed was a private one, Angelus shut the door he was spying from and retreated from his progeny's bedroom. He knocked on Elizabeth's door, "I just saw Jean-Baptiste leave. Would you care to join me for some tea, Elizabeth?" he asked.

Elizabeth quickly sat up, "Yes," she called out in reply. She straightened her dress after she got up, and making sure she was presentable, opened the door to find Angelus standing patiently outside her door. "This was a wonderful surprise. Thank you very much, Angelus," she smiled as she looked up at him.

"You're most welcome, my dear," he smiled sweetly. Walking in tow with her, they descended down the stairs to the parlour. Angelus called for a maid and requested her to bring an arrangement of sweets and a pot of tea. "Was it a nice experience? Must have been a rather shocking surprise, but Jean-Baptiste is a wonderful dressmaker and delivers beyond expectations," he smiled. A couple of maids returned as they set out teacups, saucers, cutlery, napkins, and the things that Angelus had requested, and left just as quickly. The male picked up the pot and began to pour himself a cup, then turned to Elizabeth's empty one and began to pour for her as well, "I dare say I'm a bit anxious to see the final product, myself," he chuckled. He set the pot back down after he was finished.

Elizabeth smiled at him as she pulled her teacup towards her, "Thank you. I am very excited about… everything. I just know the dress will be wonderful," she said with a confident nod. Settled in a large plush armchair, she relaxed with her tea as she began to feel more at home.

"I'm quite confident t'at it shall be, as well," he smiled, seated opposite from her. He stirred the hot beverage, letting the sugar dissolve, then replaced the spoon to the side on his saucer. About to bring the cup to his lips, Angelus was interrupted by the sound of an excited cry.

"Come quick! This is bloody exciting!" came Spike's laugh. He briefly made an appearance at the door, seeming to have actively been searching for them.

Angelus quirked a brow at him and lowered his cup, "Hmm, I hope this doesn't involve upsetting the lord of the estate," he sighed as he unfolded his crossed legs. "What do you say, Elizabeth? Shall we humour him?" he gave her a weary and wry smile.

Elizabeth set down her teacup, "I suppose," she said with a little laugh. They stood and followed the trail where Spike had appeared to dash off to.

Finding themselves standing in the vestibule just by the front doors, they waited as Spike anxiously awaited for them to appear.

"Finally," he said to them. "All right, just wait, right there," he gestured with both hands to beckon them to remain still, as though they might at any moment take off.

Angelus rolled his eyes and stood idly, "What is it that is so important, William? Elizabeth and I were in the middle of having tea."

Spike peeked his head out the partially open door, not allowing for them to see what was behind it, then withdrew back inside to glance over his shoulder at Angelus, "Who cares about your bloody tea," he scoffed. "Just you wait and see what Dru's got," he grinned. Shaking her head, Elizabeth folded her arms and tilted her head as she wondered what Drusilla had that was so exciting.

Spike poked his head back out, "C'mon, love, bring 'em in." He retreated back inside and swung the door open. Standing back, he joined the two and folded his arms in front of him, smiling as five young women walked through the doorway, all dressed in elegant evening gowns suitable for parties or evening wear. Elizabeth's look of amusement quickly faded into concern. "What do you think 'bout that, huh?" Spike looked to Angelus, beaming a smile at him. "Beats havin' tea any day o' the week," he grinned, looking back as the women stood idly, now all gathered inside. Drusilla was the last to follow, and she walked in with a cheery smile. "Drusilla, darling!" Spike moved to her and kissed her. Turning around, he held her by his side as he proudly proclaimed to them, "This was all Dru's doing." He looked to her, proud and beaming, "Didn't even bloody know she could do this. She's like a bloody Pied Piper," he chuckled. Upon closer inspection, the women there weren't receptive; the expressions on their faces were slack, and their focuses were distant. It appeared as though they were given orders to follow. They appeared mechanical, like the life-size dolls from the ballet that Angelus had taken Elizabeth to see.

"Oh?" Angelus raised a brow.

"Dru, make them do something," Spike encouraged.

"Follow my lead," Drusilla said, taking a step forward, away from her lover. She raised her left hand, and as instructed, the girls mirrored her.

Spike began to laugh hysterically at this, "Bloody brilliant! Best parlour trick, ever!"

Elizabeth did not scream or make a scene as a bad memory reminded of the repercussions that would occur if she had done so. Instead, she watched diligently, as she allowed her delicate fists to close in her crossed arms, all the while holding a pleasant look that masked her worried eyes. She shook her head as she watched all of this, remaining silent with quiet disdain.

"Hmm, I do recall seeing some cats following her once, but I thought that might have been for something else…," Angelus trailed off.

"I wanted to pick a dress for the party without having them ruin it by spilling all over the pretty fabric," Drusilla explained, turning around to face them as she lowered her arm.

"And she did _this_ ," Spike gestured at the women behind them.

"Well, do your choosing done in your room, unless you'd want to raise more suspicions," Angelus stated.

"Come, help grandmother pick a dress, love," Drusilla stood in front of Elizabeth and smiled at her. Elizabeth turned to look at the women, and then back to her grandsire. She tried to think on her feet, but there was no ruse or lie she could think of that would gracefully save these women. This was her family now. She didn't want to risk disappointing them, but she did not want the lives of these girls to be wasted for a dress either. And still, she held a little guilt for the last time she had worn the dress from a dead girl.

Having an idea in her mind, Elizabeth looked to the women as she rested her cheek in her hand, seeming to be scrutinizing the dresses themselves, "I have seen much lovelier dresses, grandmother. A beautiful ruby one in the store window with a black rose in the centre."

"Oh?" Drusilla looked to her, "I have not seen this dress." Spike looked to Elizabeth, knowing well what she wanted to do, and his look of cheer dissolved into one of annoyance.

Elizabeth smiled at Drusilla, "It is at a small shop by the theatre," she said truthfully; masking her ruse in truth always served her well. "May I ask a favour of you, though?" she asked softly as she looked down.

"What favour does granddaughter wish from me?" Drusilla asked, drawing her brows together lightly.

"Yes, what sort of 'favour' would you like Drusilla to do for you, _Elizabeth?_ " Spike looked to her with folded arms, and an annoyed glint in his eye.

Being interrupted by her sire, Elizabeth turned to him and returned his stare with a seldom used look of pure ice, "Give the girls to me," she said very softly, her gaze unwavering.

" _No,"_ Spike replied for Drusilla, before she had time to respond. "She's not just going to hand over these girls to _you_ ," he scoffed. "You know how long we prowled the streets, waiting for these proper girls to come out from these lavish parties? And to just up and hand them over to _you?_ Not a chance!" Spike shot back in Elizabeth's face. "Besides, who says that that dress even exists or is better than the ones we've picked tonight?" Spiked remained defiant.

"Hmm, I recall passing the shop on our trip to the ballet," Angelus mused. "I didn't look carefully, but a flash of red from the window does sound familiar."

"Didn't think you'd be the one to choose her side, Angelus," Spike looked at him with just as much annoyance.

"I'm not choosing sides, William, I'm merely stating the facts," Angelus replied calmly. Drusilla's large eyes wandered back and forth between each person as they spoke, not saying a word. "We could just have a gander at it to see if the dress is there and decide if it is somet'ing you'd like, Dru, then you can decide to let the fillies go. How does t'at sound?"

"No, you don't have to do that, Dru. Keep the girls _and_ take the blooming dress from the shop," Spike declared.

Drusilla looked between the two men and placed her hand to her chest, "All this bickering, just so I can find a proper dress? Am I that important to you?" she said softly.

Spike and Angelus exchanged glances and responded at the say time as they turned back to her: "Yes!" Spike replied with emphasis; Angelus' response was more stately and calm. Unbeknownst to Drusilla, it actually had very little to do with her.

Drusilla giggled and clasped her hands over her face, "I would like to see this dress," she said after lowering her hands. "Take me to it," Drusilla smiled as she turned to face Elizabeth and took hold of her hands.

Spike stepped forward and pulled on Elizabeth's shoulder, forcing her to look at him, "You're comin' with us," he pointed to her face. "No way are we leavin' you behind with 'em," he sniffed, turning around to move towards the door.

"And what are you going to do with the girls? Just leave them here?" Angelus inquired.

"Yes, we'll lock 'em in our room till we get back," Spike replied. "Why don't you go do that now, love?" Spike spoke in a gentle tone as he turned to Drusilla and smiled, "we'll be waiting down here and have the carriage readied." Drusilla nodded and trotted off upstairs as the women slowly followed in a line after her. "You are _not_ going to have your way tonight," Spike turned back and threatened his progeny. Elizabeth just looked at him, her blue eyes boring into his as Angelus attempted to quell the growing argument and heated tension between them.

"Come, now," Angelus stepped forward and gently ushered them from behind towards the doors, as though he were a father trying to calm his bickering children, "let's not let trivial matters become somet'ing more than what they are, hmm?" Elizabeth simply gazed up at her sire, daring to take one step closer towards him before letting a sweet smile return to her face.

Drusilla soon reappeared and they grew quiet. Spike stood still and patiently waited for her to approach. Elizabeth turned to smile at her, waiting for her to pass before she jerked herself out of her sire's clutches just before he had time to remove his own hand from her shoulder. Spike narrowed his eyes at her, but gave her little mind as he took hold of Drusilla's hand and began to lead her forward and out towards the awaiting carriage.

But, this was not the last of Elizabeth's little annoyances. Daring to play to the woman's doting affections, she shot out and slipped in next to Drusilla, and lovingly locked arms with her grandmother. Warming to this gesture, Drusilla slipped her grasp from Spike's hand and held Elizabeth back in return.

Spike was in shock, being snubbed by the likes of his lover who chose his progeny over him. He stared as the two women happily boarded the carriage in which Drusilla cheerfully sat next to the female. Without much of a choice remaining, Spike unhappily slumped across from them and glared daggers at the other woman. Elizabeth had suddenly become a competitor for Drusilla's affections, and somewhat of an unlikely and unexpected rival.

┼†‡

When they had all boarded, Angelus gave the driver the directions close to the theatre, as he wasn't specific to the exact address. Nearing the vicinity, the carriage began to slow its pace.

"It's close around here, I believe," Angelus said, glancing out the window as he kept vigilant for a flash of red.

Spike continued to glare at Elizabeth like a stubborn child, "You can't please her all the time, you know. There are just some things you're incapable of doing," he smirked at her.

Elizabeth looked to her sire with confusion, "I very well know that," she said softly, the meaning behind his smirk flying over her head. Spike glanced out the window and smiled to himself, thinking that the girl was far too innocent to understand the nuances he meant with his statement. As Elizabeth looked out the window, the sights became more familiar, "Three shops up," she said as she turned to Angelus. "There it is," she said with a beaming smile. As Elizabeth had mentioned, the red gown hung on its mannequin at the window of the dress shop.

"Huh," Spike hummed, seeing that what Elizabeth had said was evidently true- which he already knew was, being she was still true to her Catholic convictions- but he didn't care to believe it.

"Let's go have a closer inspection, shall we?" Angelus said, opening the door and stepping out. Spike sighed and rolled his eyes, then hopped out, offering his hand for Drusilla as Angelus did the same for Elizabeth. They moved closer to the store front and looked at the dress in question.

Elizabeth smiled at the red dress as she approached closer, "This is the one I spoke of. You would look so lovely in this," she said happily as she turned to Drusilla.

Drusilla slowly moved forward with an outstretched hand as she peered at the gown in a trancelike state, "Yes, it is lovely," she breathed, her hand now touching the glass. She spun around and smiled, "I want this one."

"Well, I guess it's settled then," Angelus commented as he peered at them from behind. Elizabeth smiled with a bit of satisfaction when she was shown to be telling the truth.

Spike took a step forward, "You want it, love? It's yours," he smiled. Considering the hour, the shop- and all other stores and eateries, save for bars- was closed, but this did not deter the overly ambitious vampire from getting what his lover wanted. "Won't even be a minute, pet," Spike assured her. Stepping to the door, he easily kicked it in, causing the wooden frame to splinter. Drusilla clapped her hands as she watched Spike from the window pull the dress off the mannequin and returned within moments, just as he had promised. Elizabeth silently shook her head as she smiled wryly at Drusilla's display of delight.

"Oh, I'll look just like a countess," she hummed, tracing her fingers along the fabric of the dress within Spike's grasp. "Do you think I'll look beautiful in it?" she peered up at him.

"You look beautiful in anything, love. You'd make burlap shine like silk," Spike smiled at Drusilla lovingly. Now that Drusilla had a dress that she loved, Elizabeth hoped they would let the entranced girls free.

"Let's return to the manor while the night's still young," Angelus suggested, taking a step towards them. "And as for the situation of the girls…," he trailed off.

Spike looked to him, still holding a bit of a grudge against having their plans suddenly flipped on them, "Let's see what Drusilla thinks about that," he said a little hotly. "Darling, what do you think?" he turned to her, his tone changing like a switch, to one with honeyed syllables, "Do you want the girls let go? Or would you like to keep them, too?" he smiled.

Drusilla marvelled at the blood red dress within her grasp and glanced up at Spike's question, "But I've already got the one I want," she replied, her eyes large. She averted her gaze back down to the dress, "And the cage isn't nearly large enough for the likes of them," she said absently.

"But, poodle, we spent hours scouring the streets and laying in wait for them. To just suddenly up and let them go would be a loss," Spike reasoned, his brows knitting together.

"It's clear her heart is already set on t'at one," Angelus interjected, gesturing for Drusilla and Elizabeth to board the carriage, "she doesn't care for the girls now." Elizabeth let out a sigh, happy to know the girls would not be harmed.

Spike looked to him suspiciously, "What's gotten into you, Angelus? You're not one to let a pretty little thing slip through your fingers. Why deny us that?" He glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth, then turned back to face him, "You got a thing for 'er? She some kind of replacement now that Darla isn't there to warm your sheets?" he smirked at him. As Elizabeth turned to board the carriage, her face grew red at her sire's questions. Had she not been stunned by such horrid accusations, she would have slapped him.

"Unlike you, William, she's actually willing to learn and open to suggestion. I've taken her under my wing and am mentoring her," Angelus replied simply as he moved past Spike and stepped up into the carriage.

"W-what?" Spike turned to look at him in surprise.

"Are you coming? Or not?" Angelus peered down at him expectantly from within the carriage. Spike begrudgingly boarded and remained silent and glum throughout the ride back. He listened idly as Drusilla twittered excitedly to Elizabeth about her gown and what things she would do with her hair for the coming party. If this were a contest, Elizabeth was starting to have the upper hand.

┼†‡

As they arrived back to the estate, Angelus took command once more and gave his instructions: "Dru, why don't you place the pretty dress away in your room and bring those girls back down? We'll bring them back into the city and you can release your hold on them," he smiled.

"All right, Daddy," she replied like an obedient daughter, smiling up at him. She trotted up the stairs with her dress in hand, and like before, had a line of them following her in tow as she returned down the stairs.

"Well, I'm comin' with her," Spike replied, taking a step forward.

"Nuh uh, uh," Angelus pressed a hand out against Spike's shoulder to stop him. "I'll be accompanying Drusilla. I don't t'ink you'd likely just let them go, would you, William?" Angelus replied, giving him a small smile.

"Oh, dear, you've caught me in the act," Spike's voice dripped with sarcasm. "What am I to do?" he carried on.

"Just stay here. Dru and I will return shortly," Angelus gave a nod and glanced to Elizabeth, reassuring her that things were now under control. Drusilla linked her arms with Angelus and returned to the carriage, now filled with the women, then rode off once more into the night. As Elizabeth began to walk forward, she was stopped in her tracks.

"You must think you're so clever," Spike said, turning to point a finger at Elizabeth's face, "gettin' Dru to listen and havin' the likes of Angelus side with you. But trust me, this ain't likely to happen again," he threatened. "This was just your lucky night," he smirked as he stepped past her.

"How awful it must be to fear everything," Spike stopped and turned to glanced at Elizabeth as she spoke, "I care about Drusila; I've never had a sister and she is kind to me. As for Angelus…," she said as innocent eyes burned into his, "never say anything like that again. He is a mentor to me- an elder brother- and that is all," she said as she stormed out to the library to hide in her books.

"Hoity-toity princess, all up on 'er throne!" Spike spat as he watched her go. He shook his head and muttered under his breath as he retreated to his own bedroom and took to pacing, "Think she can threaten me. 'Fear everything'? Ha! The girl's delusional! William the Bloody fears _nothing!_ " he continued, shirking off his coat and tossing it onto an armchair. He lounged back onto his bed and tucked his arms beneath his head as he stared up at the ceiling, thinking how bizarre she took to defending Angelus, out of all people- or vampires. She even appeared to enjoy Angelus' company and mentorship; she looked happy, happier than all the times she had spent with him. And that only took her a few short days for her to warm up to his sire, compared to the weeks that she had with Spike.

┼†‡

Being restless from having to wait for Drusilla to return, Spike decided to take a bath, then settled down to channel his pent-up rage into some poetry. When she finally returned, he was looking forward to spending the rest of their time together intimately.

"Come to bed, Dru," Spike called to her from his perch, the sheets a thin veil between his bare skin and the cool midnight air. Drusilla hummed softly as she sat by the vanity table and brushed her hair. She set her brush down and stood slowly, but not to turn towards the bed. Instead, she focused her attention on the tapestry that hung on the wall. Gazing at it, she canted her head slightly, then moved her hand to brush it aside, revealing the edge of the hidden doorway and knob. "Dru!" Spike sat up in bed when he noticed his lover turning away from him.

"I've found a secret garden," she giggled. Turning the knob and pushing her way through, she found herself in Elizabeth's bedroom.

┼†‡

After she had calmed down considerably, Elizabeth retired to her room to read another poem from her Poe collection. Sitting up in bed, she was alerted by the sudden noise of a door opening. She turned to look at it, only see it remained shut.

Drusilla glanced around and headed towards Elizabeth's bed, ignoring Spike's impatient and incessant cries in the next bedroom. "Granddaughter, won't you read me another bedtime story?" she asked, crawling over from the end of the mattress towards her.

Elizabeth turned her head sharply to the foot of her bed and gasped, "D-Drusilla! Grandmother!" Her eyes flicked up to notice the jutting door from behind the hanging tapestry, "I-I… did not know there was a door there," she said softly as she glanced back towards her grandsire. She lowered her eyes back down at the book, thinking it was too late to turn her away now, "I will read a little bit before I go to bed," she said softly as she opened the book. " _TRUE! -nervous -very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses -not destroyed -not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily -how calmly I can tell you the whole story."_

┼†‡

Getting up from his comfortable position, Spike hastily donned on his trousers and shirt and took to the area where Drusilla had disappeared. His eyes widened in surprise to find the secret passage, and after stepping through, it became clear what Drusilla was doing. He waved away at the other tapestry as it swung back against the side of his head, "Drusilla! Come back to bed!" he cried, trudging his way through into Elizabeth's quarters to find Drusilla snuggled next to his supposed arch-nemesis.

"Granddaughter is reading me dark tales of madness. 'Tis like a page from my book," she said softly, curling a finger around Elizabeth's long locks. Spike shot Elizabeth a silent look as though she were the one to blame for Drusilla's uninvited visit.

Elizabeth looked up from her book and at her sire. With her bravery running low for the night, she glanced down timidly from his piercing gaze, then looked to Drusilla who was cosily curled up next to her, "Go with him; I am rather tired. I will read more tomorrow," she assured her as she sat up to put her book away.

"Yes, don't want to bother her any more at this hour now, love," Spike added, a bit relieved that Elizabeth gently suggested for some peace.

"Aw, poor dovey's got her wings all tuckered out," Drusilla said, brushing Elizabeth's hair back from her face as she glanced over her like a concerned mother. "I could sleep here with you," she suggested, smiling at her.

"No, _no!_ " Spike was quick to object, draping his arms over Drusilla's body to hoist her up, "she doesn't like it when someone's sleeping next to her."

"And you speak from experience, love?" Drusilla asked, glancing up at him from behind as she cupped her hand to his cheek.

"Ah, well-" he froze, not finding the words to respond.

Drusilla smiled and giggled, "We can find better things to do in our own bed," she smiled at him suggestively, tracing her fingertips underneath his chin.

"I'm sure we will," Spike returned the smile to her and hoisted her roughly in his arms like a bride as she giggled loudly. Turning on his spot, he made haste towards the passage he had come from as Drusilla waved good night to the young vampire over his shoulder. They disappeared from view as the tapestry swung in place behind them, and the sound of a door slamming shut was heard.


	26. Day 29: Home-Thoughts, From Abroad

"Mademoiselle, your guest, Monsieur Gautier, has arrived." Elizabeth was pulled from her reading as she sat outside in the gardens that overlooked the seaside. It had been five days since Angelus had called for a dressmaker for her, and Elizabeth had secretly been counting down the days in anticipation for the dressmaker's return. Elizabeth nodded at the maid and closed her book before standing. With quickened step, she made her way into her room to see Jean-Baptiste setting up his things as he had before.

"Good evening Jean-Baptiste, Aloyse," she masked her eagerness with a sweet smile. Jean-Baptiste had just as much energy, if not more, than the last time he had visited. His assistant, Aloyse, although quiet and more reserved, also appeared to have more life in her that night.

"Mademoiselle Elizabeth!" Jean-Baptiste greeted Elizabeth warmly, taking her hands as he had when they had first met, but this time, leaned forward to kiss her on each cheek. "I do hope you are well," he smiled as he led her forward; Aloyse gave her a small and silent receptive nod. "I believe I was very inspired by our last meeting," he said joyfully, "I scarce slept these past few days as I couldn't stop sewing. 'Tis one of the loveliest dresses I've ever crafted," he nodded. He turned behind him where a large box was placed on the vanity. Elizabeth smiled and watched as he began to unbox it. After lifting the lid, Jean-Baptiste cast aside the tissue paper from inside and carefully lifted the dress up and turned around. He walked back to Elizabeth to reveal it to her.

"It is beautiful…," Elizabeth said in a hushed tone. It was a two-piece dress with long sleeves and mini buttons running along the length of the bodice. Leaves embroidered the cuff of the high collar and down across the collarbone area and bodice, as well as on the cuffs of the sleeves; the thread was the same shade as the fabric- a seafoam green- but with a shinier quality. The back was a volume of cloth piled high into the bustle, and the front was draped to allow for a cascade of ripples to fall softly downward like a gentle tide, just allowing for the straight-edge and streamlined effect of the dress to peek through that lay beneath it. This was all done within the single tone of the fabric; it was simple, elegant, and extremely effective- it was exquisite. It was a gown that held a simplistic and mature elegance to it, very different from the youthful dresses that Elizabeth wore.

"Are you ready to try it on?" Jean-Baptiste beamed at her. Elizabeth stood and nodded with earnestness. The dressmaker was very pleased with her response, ensuring him that his career path as a dressmaker was a right one. Aloyse helped Elizabeth out of her dress, then helped her into the new one as she affixed the small bustle to her back to allow for the full effect of the plumage. Jean-Baptiste took to the things he needed to fix as soon as she was done, pinching back areas of fabric where it was too loose or uneven by putting pins into it. After he spent some time correcting the flaws, the dress now appeared like it had been slipped onto Elizabeth like a well-fit glove. Aloyse smiled at her from behind her mentor as she watched quietly. "Would you like to see how it looks on you?" Jean-Baptiste asked, gesturing for Elizabeth to stand in front of the full-length mirror.

Elizabeth sighed softly as she glanced down at the dress, "It-it's wonderful…. I would rather much have someone tell me how I look. I… I have never worn a dress like this before. It would be best to save it for the party," she replied as she looked up with a small and appreciative smile; she remembered she no longer had a reflection. Taking Jean-Baptiste by the hands, she stepped forward for an embrace, "I want it to be a surprise," she said with a much brighter and beaming smile.

"Ah, rather have the big surprise at the final unveiling, I see," the dressmaker nodded and happily returned the embrace. He pulled back to glance down over the gown once more, "Darling, you look marvellous. It may be pretentious for me to say so prematurely, but I believe you'll be the most stunning woman there," his eyes wandered over her form, impressed by himself by the work he had done.

"I'd absolutely agree," Aloyse nodded from behind, speaking up for the first time without Jean-Baptiste's consent.

Elizabeth bashfully lowered her eyes as her cheeks flushed pink, "Thank you very much for saying so," a flattered smile was affixed on her lips. Very carefully, both the assistant and the dressmaker helped her out of the gown, making sure that none of the pins would be misplaced or prick her. After they had finished, Aloyse carefully replaced it back into the box and covered it with the lid.

"And that concludes today's session," the small man smiled at Elizabeth. "I cannot wait to see how you will look when this is complete!" he laughed, almost more excited than his client.

"I cannot wait to see it finished. Thank you ever so much for this," Elizabeth said as she walked them out of her room and down the hallway. Jean-Baptiste left soon after with some departing kisses.

┼†‡

Elizabeth picked up with her reading from earlier, taking it this time to the comforts of the dark library. Though, unbeknownst to the female vampire- who so fervently ventured into the grand library as though it were her second home- someone else had already studiously retreated between the thick stacks of dusty books. It was made apparently aware that she had entered, and that he was no longer alone to his own privacy. Not bothering to make any noises, he silently continued with his business so long as she kept to her own. He heard her flip the pages of her book, then the intermittent splattering sound of rain start, as well as the rolling rumbles of thunder. This soon led to an all out storm that night.

Comforted by the sounds of the pitter patter of rain pelting against the window, Elizabeth nodded off with book in hand. She lay pressed in the safety of the window seat nook, a place she had adopted for herself whenever she sought for some peace and quiet solitude.

When the sound of Elizabeth's page turning had stopped, he assumed she had drifted off to sleep. Keeping to his search, he finally located something to his liking and pulled it out as a small wreath of dust settled in the air in front of him. A small sigh escaped his lips as he opened the book to do some reading, but instead, let out a huge bellow of an unwarranted sneeze.

Elizabeth woke up with a start and looked around her with sleep-laden eyes, "Who's there?" Startled, the hidden male dropped the book he was reading at the sudden sound of her voice cutting through the thick silence. He quickly bent over to retrieve it, silently cursing himself for being so clumsy and losing the page number he was on. Elizabeth sat up and shook her head to wake herself some more. Setting the book aside, she stood to her feet as the effects of sleep began to wear off and a sense of anxiety and alertness set in in place of it. Once again, she was met with silence. She looked around the vast room as dark shadows danced with the flickering of the candlelight, feeding her wild imagination as she felt a looming presence hiding in the library. With a determined and shaky nod, she set out to investigate who- or what- had made that noise.

Still unaware that Elizabeth drew closer to where he was tucked out of view, he straightened himself and began to flip through the pages of the book. Elizabeth walked slowly and quietly as she peeked between each looming bookcase, only to see an empty space greet her. Determined to her cause, she carried on till she was satisfied that she was alone. As she approached the next row of shelves, she almost jumped at the sight of the shady figure near the far wall. Still she walked closer, squinting her eyes at the familiarity of it. When she was near enough to discern who it was, she called out: "Wiliam?" learning that it was only her sire, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Spike jumped at the proximity of Elizabeth's voice, throwing his arms outward to brace himself against the wall behind him and the shelved stack of books to his left. Instinctively, he turned and fumbled to shove the book back into one of the shelves, then tried to recover any measure of composure by straightening himself up and giving her a curt nod, "Elizabeth," he said, trying to play off to nonchalance.

She let out a light laugh, "I'm sorry, did I startle you?" she smiled at him as she tried to contain her laughter. "You startled me earlier. What were you reading?"

"I-I was readin' erotic literature. You know, titillating tales of the forbidden. Uninhibited raptures and obscenities. And-and, impure thoughts of… yielding to one's first kiss," he stated, stuttering and trying to come up with a legible reason why he'd be in the library despite giving Elizabeth so much flack for her love of books and literature. If he had bothered to observe- as Elizabeth would have been familiar with the locations of the themes and placement of the bound volumes- he would have realised they were standing in literature, prose, and poetry.

Elizabeth raised her brows a bit with reddening cheeks, but walked past him and calmly pulled the book out he had replaced on the shelf. "This… is a compilation of poems and short stories. There are no such books around here," she said as she shot him a playful yet questioning look.

"All right, you got me," Spike blew out a low breath between his lips, resigning himself to humble defeat. He plucked the book out of her grasp and pulled out a couple of other books he had wedged between some of the volumes, "There wasn't nearly anything I could find in the smaller one upstairs, and this one actually had some English works," he said, not looking at her. "It's the latest one by Tennyson," he lifted up the book in question that she had caught him with, tapping a finger on the cover with the same hand that clutched it, "'Ballads and other poems.' I try to stay current," he gave a small shrug. "Even with the small collection, the Niçoise's got good taste. Found some first editions of Keats and Lord Byron," he indicated at the other ones, then compiled the three together into a neat stack within his grasp. "Thought I'd… get inspired if I reread some of their works," he admitted. He looked to her, not sure what she would say to his admission. He almost felt like he was being cornered, considering he was literally trapped in one, but by the likes of a tiny-boned girl who didn't even appear threatening and had to look up to him when she spoke.

Elizabeth gave him a warm smile and a little laugh, finding it humorous that he felt he had to say he was reading something vulgar to hide his true intentions, "A very good select- Lord Byron?" she paused when the name of the author finally settled into her mind. "May I borrow it sometime? Father did not like me reading him, but with the select few that I have read, I found so interesting," she said with great interest. "With great shoulders to stand on, a masterpiece should be in the works. I won't keep you," she said as she began to walk away.

"You've read some of Lord Byron's works?" Spike quipped as she turned, curious to know that she actually shared an interest with him, in one of the greatest English poets that led the great romantic movement in poetry- the genre that Spike took a keen interest in, and had hoped to one day aspire to partake in. "What have you read?" he straightened himself upright and pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against. He hadn't initially thought about engaging in conversation with his difficult progeny, especially considering how often they were butting heads as of late, but those trivial squabbles didn't occupy his mind at that moment. He was far more interested in the topic at hand and the love for poetry.

Elizabeth resumed her spot on the window seat and looked up at him as he approached, "I have not read much. From Jon yanking my books away, to my father despising my fondness for the art, I have only read very few. Most I have forgotten, but- oh! 'She Walks in Beauty'. It was always such a romantic poem. I do believe Father hated it the most," she said with a light chuckle.

Spike's eyes brightened at mention of the title. He opened the book that he held of Lord Byron and rapidly thumbed through the pages, then settled on one and handed it to her, "Here it is," he smiled. "Thought it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever read.

_"'She walks in beauty, like the night_   
_Of cloudless climes and starry skies;_   
_And all that's best of dark and bright_   
_Meet in her aspect and her eyes:_   
_Thus mellow'd to that tender light_   
_Which heaven to gaudy day denies.'"_

Spike paused there as he recited the first stanza of the poem, turning to look back down at Elizabeth, "Well, the rest of it is written there on the page before you, as I'm sure you can read the rest," he stated. "One of the pioneers for the romantic genre, Byron was one of many greats that inspired me to pursue poetry. Although… I'd always known I would never amount to anything comparable to their calibre," he gestured at the other books within his grasp. Realising at the amount of personal information he had divulged about himself to her, he suddenly felt an awareness of discomposure descend over him. It was a rather vulnerable disposition he had put himself in, exposing himself so voluntarily; he suddenly felt a little bashful. "Um, but I-I can see you've got your own hands full with your own book," he pulled the small hardcover from her grasp once more and shut it with a quick and audible snap.

Elizabeth once again looked up at him with a supportive smile, "More men need to appreciate the art. Father told me reading these things would fill my head with unrealistic fantasies. As if wanting to be in love was as silly as chasing fairies. I really think someone who has an eye for beauty can be capable of the most beautiful things. Perhaps one day you will write great poems or songs," she said with a tilt of her head, her words still filled with youthful hope and optimism.

"It's not as though one can make a steady career from that. I was fortunate enough to be born in the right socioeconomic class, but these other buggers," he shook his head, "they'd be lucky if they had a proper meal every night." Spike leaned back against the sill across from her and glanced out the window with the books pressed to his chest and his arms folded over him. His gaze drifted to the stream of rain flowing down the glass, "I wouldn't say so much that it's a fantasy as it's an ideal one would wish to uphold. Who wouldn't want the image of the perfect love imprinted in their hearts? I'd reckon it'd appeal to everyone. Unless they're self-sufficient automatons, I'd say they haven't got a bloody clue," Spike shook his head slightly and rolled his eyes. "As for 'daddy's' opinion on art, Keats said it best: ' _Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all / Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.'_ Art conveys human knowledge and insights better than any other form- better than logic and science, which I'd reckon is probably something a man of your father's calibre only acknowledges," he glanced to Elizabeth at that before turning his gaze back out the window. "The beauty of art- man-made or otherwise- is self-contained; it evokes imagination, inspiration, creation, and ultimately a masterful piece of work- of beauty. Therein lies the _truth_ , with its beauty- self-contained in all its glory. And then you have mortals, by contrast, chaotic little gnats, always seeking for that grain of knowledge and truth, only to experience it with all the pursuits with what life offers them. And if it isn't evident enough, the intellect of the human mind is poured into that passion of the craft, and what is observed from the product, we share and relate with our own experiences." Spike paused and allowed the silence to settle after his long rattle on love, beauty, and art. Elizabeth had no reply to his observations, but rather kept quiet with a quizzical look on her face and an agreeing smile. "God, I'm sure the Duke would have _loved_ to hear what I had to offer," Spike chuckled and shot Elizabeth a wry smirk.

She laughed at that, "If only he were here to hear it, I think he would explode."

"Oh, God," Spike scoffed, "he's an authoritarian figure. Never had others raise a peep at him 'cause they're all too afraid to speak, eh? Whilst all the falderal he spouts is utter bollocks in which he so self-righteously believes to be true," he chuckled. "Oh, if he had the opportunity to meet me, I'd like to put him in his place," he laughed some more. Elizabeth laughed a bit more freely at that. It would be a sight to see, her sire matching her father in a battle of words and wit.

"Father never liked being opposed; even my brother could not stand up to him at times." Spike quirked a brow at this and let the corner of his lip furl upward into a satisfied smirk. He'd have loved to see that scene play out.

"As for lyrics… mm, music isn't my forte," Spike stated. "I'd barely consider myself a poet let alone a lyricist."

"As for your writing, I suggest you just try. Perhaps the right inspiration has not come along," Elizabeth said with a smile.

"I suppose I haven't found my muse yet," Spike sighed, rolling his head back against the sill as he peered up at the ceiling. "At the time when I'd written for Cecil- …about a girl I used to fancy," Spike corrected himself, "I could have filled a book. But… but they weren't exactly things that you'd ever see published. Now it seems as though all I write about is angst, sorrow, anger- things I'd abhorred as a mortal man," he laughed a little bitterly at that, but also at the humour and irony of it. "I wanted to make my mark as a romanticist," he sighed and shrugged his shoulders, "and now look at what I've become." He glanced to her from the side, "Not that I'm complaining. Being a bloody vampire has been the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. It's just," he slumped down on the far end of the window seat away from Elizabeth, "I can't write with the same appreciation I had before. That whole… 'love' aspect of things." Elizabeth listened quietly and could offer nothing more than her silence and an empathetic nod. At that, she turned her head to glance out the window and sang a few choice words softly below her breath.

Spike rested his cheek in his cupped hand as he stared forward. Hearing a little peep of a melody from the woman sitting next to him, he turned to look at her, "The rain doesn't drown out the sound of your singing; I can hear you perfectly well, surprisingly, considering you share the same vocal attributes of a house rodent," he chuckled as he teased her.

She turned to glance at him, "I am a bit quiet, aren't I? Well, at least I can carry a tune better than a mouse," she said with a laugh. Spike propped a leg up on the sill and rested his arm across his knee as he faced her. It was very interesting to see how she had changed since she had started her new unlife with them. What was once a shy, skittish, wide-eyed girl, had started to bloom into an individual who spoke her mind, stood defiantly on what grounds she believed in, and even had the humour to now poke fun of herself. He'd have thought he had been the one who had contributed the most with her opening up, but he had noticed the most significant change when Angelus had taken her under his wing. Spike canted his head a bit as he observed her, an amused smile on his face as she poked fun of herself, actually a bit surprised that she had. "As for your current topics, a lot of good work is a little dreary. Take Poe for instance. His story that I was reading last night was brilliant. It was frightening and paints such a picture, you actually feel the way the narrator does," she said with a smile.

"Well, considering the circumstances with his life, Poe's dreariness bled into his works. Sure, it worked for him, but I'm not a depressing bloke. There's too much fun to be had in this long, eternal unlife of mine." Spike gave a little nod, "I'd be the cheeriest piece of sunshine if you had me standin' next to the likes him."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement that was followed by soft laughter, "That would be a funny sight to see. Though it would pale in comparison to you meeting my father. Having someone match wits with him would be…," her once cheerful tone drifted off into a bittersweet thought. She had almost forgotten that she would never see her family again. She knew it was best to just leave the memory of them behind, and it was now something she readily chose to do. At the sound of Elizabeth's voice trailing off, Spike knew where her thoughts were heading. He had experienced something similar himself, albeit with different circumstances. With her situation though, her family was still alive and well, and she would at least take comfort in knowing that. With Spike, his mother was dead.

Spike hesitated before he spoke, seeing that it was a delicate topic, "I know the idea of home is still vivid in your memories," he began, taking note that she had only been a vampire for only about a month, "and bollocks if I said it gets better," he sighed, "it doesn't. Normally, after one gets turned into a vampire, their mind wouldn't be preoccupied with thoughts of their former home and life; you'd be free of that type of burden," he thought of the experiences of all his predecessors and tales of others who had resorted to killing their once loved ones instead. His prime example was Angelus. "It's rare to still have that connection, but I suppose you and I were an exception," he gave a little smile, impinging on something that might have looked bittersweet. Elizabeth managed to muster a small smile as she looked across at her sire. She knew she would forever miss her family. It was the burden of carrying the guilt and pain, knowing that they carried on without her, that she could not run home to them, that despite her current circumstances, she had chosen to leave them. But she was reminded of that choice she had made every night. "As time passes, the memories get more distant is all," Spike explained. "Just remember what was once good and bury the rest," he turned to look out the window a little solemnly, "but don't yearn for it. Look forward to each day as you live it now," he said, turning back to her.

Sighing, Elizabeth still held her smile and nodded stiffly, "Thank you…," she said softly, looking out the window to see a bolt of lightning streak across the sky. It was strange how the two of them could share a bit of civility with each other in their quiet moments alone, considering how often they tended to have more disagreements. This reminded Spike of the first serious conversation they had had together, when they had taken refuge up on the loft in the abandoned barn. They had discovered they shared a common thread with their upbringings, and even an interest in poetry. And just as it had been that time, echoed there in that vast, French library.

The sincerity in her words of thanks was surprising still, and Spike hesitated briefly, but began to reply: "You're wel-"

"Elizabeth," Angelus' voice cut through the room, just as the lightning flickered; Elizabeth glanced up to see the figure of her mentor gliding towards them. Spike turned to look at him with surprise as the thunder began to bellow soon after. "Spike," Angelus looked to him and gave him that small smile of his that always looked like he was carrying a secret, "it's nice to see you here as well." He cast his focus back on Elizabeth, "My dear, I know the weather outside may be a little wet for the common folk, but I'd like for us to continue with our nightly prowls," he said gently. Elizabeth looked out at the storm with knit brows, wondering if it was a good night to hunt or if she should stay in her safe little haven.

"You take her out to hunt?" Spike looked at him curiously, surprised to learn that she had actually gone with Angelus and shown him that side of herself.

"Of course," Angelus looked to him calmly, "it's now just been a week t'at we've been doing this," he replied. "Isn't t'at right, my dear?" he turned back to Elizabeth for confirmation. Elizabeth nodded in response to both her sire's and mentor's questions.

With a final decision, Elizabeth answered Angelus' initial request by standing and took a few small steps towards him, "Let me fetch my coat," she said.

"Of course, Elizabeth. I'll be here waiting," Angelus' smile broadened. Elizabeth looked back to her sire as she walked past him, giving him a small smile as a silent means of thanks for talking to her so civilly and candidly. Spike merely glanced up at her and watched as she left the room. It was strange to actually witness this exchange happen between his progeny and sire, but it was evident that they had a bond between them that was something he couldn't come between.

"You're welcome to join, you know," Angelus said to Spike when they were alone.

Spike glanced up at him, surprised at the invitation, "Oh, uh, I… dunno," he said with hesitance.

Angelus smiled, "Aren't you at all curious how your 'little mouse' hunts? Not as genteel as you'd t'ink," he chuckled lightly. Admittedly, Spike was. He had only seen the aftermath of her feedings- her very first one on the night she was turned, and the woman from the Brussels' hotel room he had ordered her to kill. "We could make this into a family affair. What do you say?" Angelus continued.

Spike peered at the male, then slowly smiled in return, "Yes, I'd like that," he stood. "Let me just call for Drusilla," he began to head towards the door.

"Drusilla already stepped out for the evening," Angelus called after him.

Spike paused and glanced back behind him, "Oh."

"Sweet t'ing's probably dancing around under the rain at this moment. Fetch your coat and we'll leave now," the long haired vampire walked towards him and set a hand on his shoulder. "We might even cross paths with her tonight."

"All right," Spike agreed.

┼†‡

As Spike headed upstairs, Angelus made his way towards the front door where Elizabeth stood waiting.

"Not yet, precious, there's someone else who's going to join us," he said to her, giving her a small smile. Elizabeth cheeks tinted a rosy pink as she turned to her mentor, flushing slightly at the way he had addressed her. "Found a deviant of a man who fits right to your liking," Angelus smiled to her.

"Oh?" she lifted her head up with interest.

"A murderer; killed more than once. I know where he disposes the bodies. We shall head there tonight," he patted her on the side of her upper arm.

Spike began to descend the stairs as he was simultaneously fixing the collar of his coat along his neck. "Well then," he hopped off down the last few steps and moved towards them, "shall we get a move on?" Elizabeth turned to her sire, learning that the unexpected guest was none other than him. She kept to herself as usual and nodded but was curious as to why he was coming along.

Spike glanced down to his progeny and met her quiet stare of curiosity with a beguiling smile, "Not expectin' the likes of me to join you on this fine evening of dining?"

"Come along, you two," Angelus walked ahead towards the awaiting carriage, calling after them as though they were his two children.

┼†‡

"It's just a few streets ahead," Angelus said calmly with a large black umbrella clutched in his gloved hand. Elizabeth walked alongside him and felt something in the air as she looked down the road with a hungry eagerness. Angelus had instructed the driver to drop them off on the corner of a street in the middle of the city and had him wait there till they returned. The storm had managed to drive people indoors to safety, and the downpour continued relentlessly.

Spike ducked beneath the umbrella from behind as he held the openings of his coat closed with the embrace of his arms, "What is?" he inquired.

"Lizzy's supper," Angelus answered with a light smile, not bothering to look at him. Spike glanced at the two of them from behind, seeing how intimate their relationship had become.

Turning at the bend into an alley way, they sloshed through the pooling waters on the grounds and made another turn where Angelus stopped to stand at the corner of a building- they were now in a direct line of view of the back of a shop.

"Now wait and watch, my dear," Angelus moved Elizabeth in front of him and allowed her to look ahead for herself, "it should be any minute where he'll be coming out and-" as though on cue, a man opened the back door to the shop. Elizabeth's eyes were instantly trained on the shifty figure. He peered around as though leery of people watching, and continued to pull a sack out with him. From the looks of it, it appeared heavy, and if one had inspected closer, there was indeed a trail of blood that was being left behind. Angelus' grin widened, "Go ahead, precious, supper's ready," he gave her a little encouraging pat on the shoulder from behind. In that instant, her entire demeanour changed into that of a scared and lost girl as she walked down the alley towards the man. She looked around with her arms tightly hugging her wet form. Rain plastered the small wisps of her untucked hair against the side of her face as her wide eyes almost pleaded with fear.

Spike stood next to Angelus as he watched Elizabeth move forward in a transfixed state towards the man ahead of them. She almost looked like she was hypnotised, lost, maybe even had characteristics of Drusilla's insanity; this was the first time Spike had seen her like this, like a true predator.

As Elizabeth approached the man, he was made aware of her as she drew closer. He stopped dead in his tracks and suddenly lost his grip on the sack as it dropped into a messy heap at his feet. It fell with a wet and soggy slop of a sound, like a wet dishrag falling to the floor as it splashed in the shallow puddles.

"E-eh! You startled me there, girl!" he yelled in French as he looked up at her warily. "What are you doing out here so late in the middle of the night? Don't you have a home to return to?" he turned his back to her, shielding what he could as he pulled the sack farther away toward the corner of the lane, and possibly farther away from his shop so that he wouldn't be incriminated with the evidence.

"I-I am sorry, sir, I do, but you see… I am lost. I cannot find the hotel my parents are staying at. Can you help me?" she asked with an innocent and scared voice, making herself vulnerable. Allowing herself to be the perfect victim for opportunity, she threw herself to the lions so she could feel out the potential prey. "Please? I have money for the trouble," she offered. The man looked to her, very wary of how she was suddenly there.

Squinting, he wiped at his brow to get some of the rainwater out of his eyes and turned back around, "Can't be bothered, girl, I'm busy right now. Now leave me and find someone else who'd be willing to help you."

Elizabeth glanced over his shoulder, hoping to see the contents of the sack were not just a slaughtered animal, "There are no other shops around that are open. I have never been to this city before, sir," she pleaded as she continued to glance around her nervously. "Perhaps I could help you with your sack?"

The man suddenly stopped and turned on his spot as he stared at her with wide eyes, "I said I don't have the time to help you! Now, be gone!" he yelled angrily. "And don't you _dare_ mention what you've seen here!" he threatened.

At that, Elizabeth's facade of fear melted into a face of calmness, "No, sir, I think I know exactly what I have seen tonight… I just did not want to believe it," she said as she took a step towards him, her crystal eyes staring into his with an unwavering gaze.

The man cast an annoyed filled glance at her as it was clear his patience was wearing thin, "I don't have time to entertain the thoughts of such nonsense from a lost girl," he spat. "Now be gone with you, or I shall make you regret it!" he bellowed, lifting an arm up as though he threatened to backhand her.

Elizabeth did not flinch from his threats; her eyes continued to bore into his as they shifted to the sack, then back to him again, "Did you know who they were before you took them away? What they were doing when you found them? Families, lives… it did not matter to you," she said in a soft and haunting tone like she was the voice of his conscience; she was not afraid of him. She had always given them chances, always the benefit of the doubt. If what Angelus had said was true, that that man was really killing all these people, she would enjoy killing him above all.

The man began to laugh at her, "Crazy girl! Do you think you're the police or something?" he chuckled some more.

From a short distance, the two male vampires observed the interaction between the man and girl as they listened to all their words exchanged. Elizabeth had managed to put on an act with just a drop of a hat, something Spike assumed she had grown used to with the way they had to make impromptu back stories with their travels, but she did reveal to him her desire to act, and he supposed that was a bit of her passion playing to her will.

"Now leave! Or I'll throw you out like this sack!" the man cautioned again, finding the sight of her unsightly in the thick of the downpour. He ignored her rants and raves and finally slopped the sack far away from the shop before turning back around to trudge menacingly towards her. A look of worry began to flit across Elizabeth's face."I've had enough of your lunacy!" he growled, raising a hand to her. "Probably never had your father discipline you well enough, eh?" he swung a backhand at her defiant face, only to have his wrist caught by the girl just as he was about to land his blow. The man looked to her in surprise as her once worried expression had now faded to an unreadable bleakness. Unable to pull himself from her grasp, he began to growl in protest; the girl was stronger than she looked. It was now clear to Elizabeth that this man was not innocent. Had he been, he would have simply explained himself, or turned her away without seeming so jumpy or hostile. Still holding fast to his wrist, she quickly yanked him inside the shop and slammed the door shut behind them.

Angelus and Spike moved closer and watched them from outside the dingy window.

Turning her back to the man, Elizabeth released her grip as she choked on the stench of death that surrounded her. To her left was another bloody sack. She moved slowly towards it with slight caution, only to tremble at the sight she saw after she pulled it open. Severed hands and feet, dainty fingers, and mangled limbs. Angelus was right; this man was far worse than any monster she had encountered thus far. Still tremoring from the shock, she heard her mentor's words of reassurance echo in her ears: _"You're a saviour, Elizabeth; what you did was just… There's no one left who would pity or mourn his death."_ And with that, her bravery returned, as well as her budding anger.

"W-what is this? You're crazy, girl! Beyond mad with the strength of an ox! You belong in some circus!" the man yelled frantically, being barricaded in his own shop by the lone and strange female. "Now, get out!" he urged, but a hint of fear in his voice betrayed his brave words. Angelus observed this quietly with a small but growing smile on his lips.

With her back still to him, a whisper could be heard- a prayer. Not for her would be victim, but for her own forgiveness. As Elizabeth's face turned into her demon visage, she knew his death would be far worse than any simple drunk she had encountered. She turned around to face the man and pulled him close before he had time to reach for the door. Her fingernails dug into the sides of his face as she trembled in rage, causing him to scream in pain and fear. _Those poor people were probably found at their most vulnerable_ , she thought, _had families and futures, now lost_. Just like her. At his cries for mercy, she simply whispered, "Will it bring them back?" There was a brief silence before the blood curdling cries of horror ensued as she sank her teeth into his neck. She fed with no tears in her eyes, almost satisfied in her actions, and unaware that her actions were being observed.

"Ah, t'at silence," Angelus smiled, "I always appreciate t'at little brief silence before they scream," he chuckled lightly, a proud look on his face as he watched his little student finesse her skill.

Spike simply glanced to him, then returned his attention to Elizabeth as she made work of the man, watching as she fed with vigour and pleasure. She was truly a vampire after all.

Angelus opened the back door as she was finishing, "You made well of him, my dear," he proclaimed proudly, the look of a beaming father plastered on his face. With the last drops of blood running down her throat, Elizabeth sighed and dropped the body to the cold, dirty floor. Deep crescent shaped gashes lined the man's hairline from where her nails dug into him to display her anger. Elizabeth looked up at her mentor and sire with a sweet and slightly shy smile, then began to clean herself up. Picking up her dress ever so slightly, she gracefully stepped over the body as her human beauty returned to her face. Spike said nothing as he silently observed the displays of his progeny's aftermath and the bonding shared between mentor and student. "Shall you make light of the body? No bother to make t'ings tidy; the police will soon discover his misdeeds," Angelus chuckled.

Elizabeth nodded, "He was a monster; they would not even care for what happened to him," her voice was soft but laced with venom. Feeling quite proud of herself, the comfort and pride she took in killing such a horrible man was greater than her smouldering guilt.

Angelus laughed lightly at her comment and offered his hand for her to take. Elizabeth smiled softly at him. Taking hold of his hand, she followed him as he led them back out into the night air. "Well, look at t'at," he said, tilting his umbrella to the side as he lifted his face skyward; the rain had settled down to a mist, "it appears the weather agrees with you," he laughed and turned back to her, discarding the umbrella without another thought. They continued to move forward as the unusual sight of a family, gaily delighting in the events of a tortuous death.

"I didn't think you had it in you," Spike peered at Elizabeth with a light smile on his face, "but you really are a bloody vampire after all," he laughed, an unusual way of him to compliment his progeny. "You've got bollocks, girl," he laughed again, "it was a bloody brilliant show."

Looking at her sire, Elizabeth raised her brows with a humble smile. It was a wonder what her anger could make her brave enough to do, how such a sweet and timid girl could have a wrathful side should she embrace it. Glancing down, she giggled a bit as she walked in their company. It was a strange feeling, having someone- people- proud of her for doing such a thing. But as her mentor said before, she had done nothing wrong; it was for the greater good and she had reaped the benefits. It was in that moment that Elizabeth, a vampire created entirely by accident- one that was meant to lie cold and dead in the gutter, one who was forced to live an immortal life of a vampire without a moment's notice, and one who had to endure the likes of her two male counterparts who had both threatened to end her existence- was now openly accepted into their circle and family. She had finally proven herself to be a murderous creature who was not ashamed of her actions and means of survival; she killed in cold blood and had enjoyed it- as she should have. Though Angelus was entirely one to take credit for her blossoming traits, Spike did not mind it so much, as he felt that since he had witnessed this part about her, he did not perceive it as something that was weak or 'too good' for their vampire nature. It was rather a bond they could all share together as an unconventional vampire family.

"Suppose the numbers on your menu have dwindled down quite a bit, hasn't it?" Spike teased.

"She has rid the town of quite a few of the scum in this city," Angelus commented to that, "but the land is vast, and there are always more cropping up," he chuckled as he looked to her.

"Ever try 'playing with your food'?" Spike quirked a brow as a wry smile cropped up on his face. "Perhaps give 'em a few things they've been doling out to the many, eh? It'd make it out for a bit of poetic justice, don't you think?" he chuckled, amused at the idea of it all, but not quite sure if Elizabeth would go so far as to actually torturing bad men, despite the misdeeds they had done.

As Elizabeth walked, a small smile appeared on her lips. What was once a living nightmare for her- losing her life to gain one of murder and immortality- was turning out to be an adventure far greater than anything she could have ever read. The two men who inspired her taste in victims now praised her as they walked by her side as mentors and friends. Looking up at her sire, she shook her head lightly, "While punishing the wicked, one risks becoming what one despises," she quoted herself from the previous conversation she had had with Angelus in the library. Spike scoffed at this. "Not to say that the thought has not crossed my mind," she added with a shy and delicate voice as a fire simmered beneath her surface. The innocent girl was now coming to terms with her new life. While she did not let the demon consume her, she embraced it on occasion when it was well deserved. For if God would not to reach His hand down to smite these evil doers, perhaps it was her duty to be His wrath on earth to punish the wicked- horrible men who preyed on the weak, who tormented the innocent with joy and vigour, men that she would take the same joy dragging out of that world. A little fire of resentment and rage simmered inside of this sweet, innocent, and unassuming girl, one who could at a moment's notice be very dangerous.

Spike smiled with amusement at her statement. There was a lot that Elizabeth was hiding inside in that head of hers that she wasn't showing in her actions. Glancing ahead of him, Spike took notice of a familiar womanly figure as she approached their direction. She was dressed in darker shades and a bonnet covered her cascading ringlets of hair. She moved hauntingly, almost disturbingly.

"Drusilla," Spike quipped, brightening up with delight as he dashed forward to greet her, "have you fed, love?" he took her hands within his and peered over her face as she looked back at him with doe eyes. She gave him a sweet smile and a small nod of her head.

"A little lost lamb trapped out in the rain," she encircled her hand around his arm as they proceeded forward towards the other two vampires, "but I soon had it reunite with its family," she giggled at that, and Spike smiled kindly in turn, knowing there was more to her way of riddles.

"We were out here watchin' the girl hunt," Spike said, now standing in front of them. He glanced over at Elizabeth, wearing a somewhat proud smile as though he were a father talking about the latest accomplishments of his daughter, "One of the strangest sights I thought I'd ever behold, but it was rather bloody brilliant," Spike laughed as he turned back to Drusilla, "you should have seen it." Elizabeth smiled at her sister figure, beaming with a proud yet humble smile as her sire spoke of her 'accomplishment' as if she were a child who did something great for the first time. Having him smile at her instead of criticising her made her feel wonderful, and in a way, she felt like she belonged.

Drusilla looked from Spike to Elizabeth as he shared her story, "Oh, finally witnessing her kill," she gave a small smile. At her grandsire's acknowledgement, Elizabeth cast her eyes down to her hands, now clean but with red lining the insides of her fingernails. Upon seeing this, her beaming smile waned into a smaller one. Drusilla watched the junior of the group with careful eyes, inquisitive and probing, "Perhaps I shall see her play another time," she suggested, her eyes still fixated on the other female. She suddenly flicked her gaze upwards towards the elder behind the young figure, "You don't take me out on games like this anymore," she pouted.

Angelus smiled and gave a small chuckle, "But you're always out spending your time with William, gallivanting and causing your own remorse and catastrophes. It's hard keeping tabs on you all," he said calmly.

"Still," Drusilla continued to pout, almost turning to the side as though she were a small child rebelling.

"Don't we have fun on our hunts, love?" Spike asked her, surprised by her behaviour.

She turned and peered up at him, frowning as she replied, "They're vicious and gory, things I've only dreamt of come to life." Spike's small bout of anxiety that had peeked through dissolved in that instant and he let out a tiny sigh of relief. A warm smile spread over his face shortly after. "But Daddy doesn't dote on me as much," Drusilla continued, "he spends all his waking nights with _her_ ," her high voice dipping to the slightest indication of sharpness. Spike's brows drew up in surprise, not having any words to say to her complaint. Elizabeth glanced up as her eyes briefly met with her grandsire's. Knitting her brows together and tilting her head in confusion, she watched as Drusilla continued to pout. The way she complained to Angelus was almost like she was a jealous lover. Of course he was nothing more than an elder brother and mentor to Elizabeth, but it made her slightly suspicious of Angelus' and Drusilla's relationship in their absence, that maybe her sire's jealousy had some merit in truth. Elizabeth remained quiet and kept this to herself.

"We'll have a night together soon, just you and I. How does that sound?" Angelus offered. Being the eldest, he was also wisest to smooth things over between the lot of family matters.

Drusilla beamed a smile and clapped her lace covered hands together in front of her mouth with excitement as she let out a girlish giggle, "Oh, yes, please! Just a date between Daddy and me, like old times." Turning to Spike, she drew closer and placed a hand upon his chest, "You look more wan than usual, love," she peered up at him with large eyes, "have you not yet fed?"

Spike glanced down at her, "No, not yet."

"Come, let's have a proper warm meal in you," she smiled, cupping his face within her hand as she pulled him down for a kiss. It was an easy enough gesture to make Spike comply to her; he kissed her in return without having to bend much of his will, but the display of Drusilla's actions were almost explicit, as though she wanted their affections to be seen. She kissed him with a little more fervour, and when their lips parted, she had even managed to elicit a small gasp from Spike as he drew in a breath. "Come now, my sweet," Drusilla smiled lovingly at him, sealing her arms around the hook of his left arm and gently pulling him away from the other pair. Giving one last glance over her shoulder to Elizabeth and Angelus, she smiled, a sight that was odd and a little incongruent with her past actions that night. Then again, it could have been easily overlooked, as it was Drusilla after all. Spike made little comment and merely followed in her lead, whilst Angelus peered over at her carefully with his hands clasped behind his back as he watched the two lovers leave.

"I suppose we shall be taking the carriage ride home alone then," he said in the quiet of the night, watching the pair amble away down the street.

Elizabeth watched them leave next to her mentor, "I… suppose we are," she said in a timid and distant tone laced with thought. There was that feeling again, a tingle she had felt when Angelus had startled her in the library. Tucking a stray hair behind her ear, she looked up as a quiet bolt of lightning lit up the sky as if to quiet her thoughts.

┼†‡

As the weather had been a little ambivalent throughout that evening- thunderstorms and temperamental rainfall that would turn on and off when it felt there needed to be a splattering of precipitation- it had somehow shown a personified reflection in Drusilla.

Spike stood by the bedside as he disrobed to his shirt and underpants as he got ready for bed, then stared across at Drusilla. She sat in her nightgown at the vanity table, humming softly as she pulled the ribbons from her hair. Turning down the covers, Spike paused as he tried to formulate some words in his mind before looking back at his love. She was now passing a brush through her dark and thick locks. "Drusilla, love," he began, "was there something that spoilt your mood tonight?"

"No," she replied softly, not turning to look at him, "I'm perfectly the same."

"Nothing at all?" Spike watched her closely as he raised his brows, recalling how she had all but thrown a fit in the puddles in the middle of the dark streets of Nice.

Drusilla turned to glance at him, "Was I being funny?" she asked, pulling a somewhat sad face.

"Oh, no, nothing of the sort, love," Spike said, coming over to her quickly and kneeling at her side, "you just appeared more… sensitive than usual, is all."

Drusilla handed the brush to Spike, indicating that he take over her hair brushing for her as she turned away, "Was I, now?" she said, humming to herself in thought. "Perhaps that lamb I had for supper was spoilt flesh. Yes," she breathed, coming to the conclusion that her meal was cause for her odd behaviour.

Spike made no comment as he brushed her hair, an act that was not as uncommon for a man his age as one would think, as he'd help his aging and ailing mother at times when she felt too weak to lift her own arms to do even simple tasks such as that. He mulled over her explanation but saw little reason for her to be so testy, especially when it concerned the time Angelus was spending with Elizabeth. It had rather appeared that she was jealous of them, and Spike hated to admit it, but that had hurt him a bit. He didn't see a reason why she would be jealous of their relationship when she was supposed to be with Spike.

"Are you all done, love?" Drusilla asked, swinging her legs as though she were a young girl.

"Yes," Spike replied, setting the brush down on the vanity. Drusilla stood up with haste and began to head towards the tapestry where the hidden door lay. "Wait a moment!" Spike cried, standing up as she began to giggle.

"I only want granddaughter to read me a bedtime story," she said, pulling the heavy fabric aside and turning the handle. "You're always welcome to join us, William," she smiled. Spike crossed his arms and looked to her stubbornly. With Drusilla so willingly going back to Elizabeth for a storybook reading, he supposed it was wrong for him to conclude she was holding some unknown grudge against the girl, so it must have been Angelus' doing, he surmised.

"Fine, go," he said, "but I want you to come back as soon as you're done," he added, not liking how he'd have to wait for his lover to return after she would leave to visit someone else's bed.

Drusilla gave a curt nod and pushed open the door, "Of course." As she walked through, she treaded with light footfall and called out with a hollow and thin voice towards Elizabeth, "Granddaughter, won't you read me a bedtime story?"

┼†‡

Sitting on her bed in her white nightgown, Elizabeth had just finished braiding her hair when she noticed Drusilla come in. It was nice to see her in a better mood than the one she was in earlier.

"Of course. How about we continue from last time?" Elizabeth picked up her book and opened it to her bookmarked spot as Drusilla assumed her usual position next to her. The older woman snuggled down as she lay her head at the crook of her junior's neck and listened attentively as Elizabeth read the poetic words softly, concluding the man's insane tale in the few remaining paragraphs. Drusilla let a small giggle escape her lips at the end of it, finding it humorous that the man had finally given in to his insanity. It fit well with her line of thinking, being that she was also unfit of mind and took her delights in death, destruction, and morbidity in her life as a vampire.

"Another, granddaughter," Drusilla pleaded softly as she peered up at her with her doe eyes. Elizabeth sighed softly but could not help but smile. Turning the pages, she found another dark and twisted tale about revenge from one friend to another.

" _THE thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitely, settled -but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong._ "

After Elizabeth had finished the tale with the live entombment of the man, she bid her grandsire a good morning. Drusilla kissed her lovingly on top of her head and rubbed her softly on the cheek- much like what a doting elder sister would do to a child- then scurried off to the hidden passage.

┼†‡

On the other side of the tapestry, Spike had aptly been listening by the doorway, feeling anxious and restless if he had just laid in wait for Drusilla in bed. Additionally, he was too proud to show himself, with Elizabeth reading him a bedtime story like he were some boy that had trouble falling asleep. He really much preferred his way of listening without not being seen. Hearing them finishing up, he promptly headed back into bed and flung the covers over him, then sat up straight as he watched Drusilla reappear in the room.

She smiled as she glided towards him, "Have you been a good boy while I was gone, William?" she crawled forward from the end of the bed till she had straddled herself on top of his lap.

"Very," he smirked, soon tugging her forward towards him, and pulling her down beneath him onto the bed.

 


	27. Day 31: Sudden Light

On the day of the party, Jean-Baptiste made his final trip to deliver his prized package. It was late in the morning, and Elizabeth had woken up early in anticipation for this final visit, coupled with the excitement for that night's festivities.

"Mademoiselle Elizabeth, Monsieur Jean-Baptiste Gautier is here to see you," one of the maids knocked on Elizabeth's bedroom door to alert her of her guest.

"Come in, Monsieur, come in," Elizabeth said sweetly as she opened the door, welcoming him into her room; her eyes were instantly drawn to the box that he held at his side.

"Mademoiselle Elizabeth," Jean-Baptiste gestured at her with an open arm whilst precariously hefting the large and precious box with his other arm. Moving forward, he clasped her hand with his free one and greeted her with a kiss upon each cheek. He gladly settled into the familiar room, but was a little perplexed by the dimly lit setting and her strange habit of keeping the curtains drawn.

"I am so excited to see it. May I?" she motioned to the box with a smile of excitement.

"But of course," he smiled at her coyly over the rim of his spectacles. Placing the box down on the end of the daybed, he lifted the cover and cast the thin crepe paper aside. He lifted the gown up gingerly from the shoulders and draped the skirt over his arm so that it wouldn't drag against the floor, "How do you like it?" he laughed, feeling very proud of what he had accomplished. "I worked tirelessly these past couple days; barely slept a wink," he confessed, happy, though tired in his state of bliss.

Elizabeth covered her mouth as she gasped, "It's… beautiful!" With a slow and light touch, she tentatively held the dress between her fingers as she tried to grasp the idea that it was really hers.

"I must have you try it on one last time to see that it is a good fit, and of course, to ease my own peace of mind," he smiled gently. Without the aid of Aloyse at his side, he waited for Elizabeth to change as she took the gown with her behind the changing screen. He helped her with any other adjustments after she emerged.

"W-well?" she asked nervously. Jean-Baptiste was quick to inspect for any misalignments or ill fitting tufts of fabric that might have been a social outcry in the public eye- he was of course a dressmaker first, and a candid admirer second.

After he was pleased that everything was well and proper, he moved back and smiled- rather, beamed. He nodded his head, "It is wonderful. You are absolutely stunning in it," he breathed. Taking both of her hands into his once more, he looked into her eyes and spoke, "If you ever need another dress for a party or event, please, _please_ consider me first and foremost. I cannot bear to think you'd call another dressmaker after you've seen my work, would you?" he teased. "You've brought the most out of my talents, my dear, and I would be honoured to work on another piece for you."

Elizabeth giggled and smiled humbly, " Thank you so very much. And of course, I would not dream of anyone else making a dress for me," she said. He kissed her on the cheeks before he departed, wishing her well and hoping to see her in the near future as she saw him out of her room.

┼†‡

Preparing himself for a party that evening was not something Spike would have preferred by choice, but it was with much coaxing and ego feeding on Drusilla's part that he had relented, much to his chagrin. He would have very much preferred strutting the streets and causing some havoc to some scared witless bystanders, but he'd have to delay that urge for the following night. Drusilla had been very excited for that evening, finally being able to showcase her lovely red dress that they had stolen from the quaint little dress shop. And if she was taking the effort to look good for that event, Spike decided he would also put a little effort in for her sake.

Though it wasn't explicit in detail that it would be a party for only evening dress, Spike dialled back the formalities and decided he would just stick to a clean and starched dress shirt with a high collar, paired with a charcoal pin-striped vest, and a satin silk grey ascot cravat affixed with a simple straight-pin in the centre of it. His trousers were of a lighter grey and chequered, just sweeping the tops of a pair of black and polished Oxfords. He did, however, wear a proper black evening tailcoat, and topped off his ensemble with a charcoal, double-breasted Chesterfield overcoat. He made sure that all the other necessities of maintaining a clean and neat look were also taken care of- bathing, getting a clean shave, and even having his hair washed and untangled. These were things he hadn't forgotten with his upbringing, but made him a little uncomfortable as it reminded him a little too much of what he used to be. He was sure that the only thing he would need to finish his ensemble were his missing spectacles, then he would surely fall back into the bumbling old habits of William Pratt.

He gathered his black silk top hat and gloves as he waited for Drusilla, but she insisted that he go ahead and wait for her downstairs as she finished herself up. For the most part, he had helped her with as much as he could, now that she was without the aid of Darla to help her, being that she was her 'mirror', so it was a little perplexing to see her make herself ready without any additional help. Nonetheless, Spike obeyed her wishes and met Angelus in the vestibule where he was of course a core example of what it was to dress properly for an evening- white shirt, starched collar, ivory-white bowtie with matching coloured waistcoat, black tailcoat, and a black Inverness cape where his arms peeked through the sleeveless arms. Angelus was also wearing black tapered Oxfords that were so polished and shiny, they could see their reflections in them- if they had any. He wore his black silk top hat and his white gloves as he stood waiting; a black lacquered walking cane was held within his grasp and set on the floor in front of him.

"A little overdressed, are we," Spike observed as he wiggled his fingers into a glove.

"Aren't you a little underdressed?" Angelus raised a slight brow as he looked to his counterpart who now assumed a place next to him.

"No, thanks. I'm not one who takes to resembling animals from the animal kingdom," Spike sniffed, looking ahead up at the staircase.

"Hmm, suppose this is somet'ing measurably better than the rags you normally wear," Angelus said lightly, also lifting his head up to the staircase.

Spike gave him a dirty side glance, "That's a personal choice I make, to dress the way I do."

"Ah, t'at just makes it worse," Angelus replied, not missing a beat.

"You bloody pompous-" Spike began as he turned towards Angelus, only to observe his sire's face light up.

"Drusilla, my dear, you wear that dress so well," Angelus smiled broadly at her.

Spike turned to look up at his lover, and soon had his scowl dissolve into a look of wonder and delight, "You're radiant, love." Drusilla descended the steps with her bright red dress, the sleeves short and barely covering the edge of her shoulders as they revealed the full length of her collar bones. The front of the dress dipped into a modest V-line, feminine enough to accentuate her bosom, but not enough to reveal any cleavage, where upon a small pendant attached on a simple chain adorned her neck. Drusilla wore long white silk gloves, and had affixed the filigree bracelet over onto her wrist, and pinned her brooch off-centre along the trim of the bodice. She also wore complimentary earrings that dangled freely from her lobes, enough to draw more attention to her neckline, but not enough to cause distraction. Her hair was immaculately curled and piled high on top of her head, sophisticated and swept up in a French twist, much like how the French locals wore their hair.

"Am I a blinding beacon?" Drusilla smiled, the train of her dress gathered in one hand as the other deftly glided lightly along the banister; the black cape tied around her shoulders billowed lightly behind her as she descended downward.

Spike moved forward and lifted his hand for her to take, beaming at her all the while as though he were a groom looking at his bride, "You're the bloody sun." Scooping her arms around his upper arm, they moved forward as Angelus announced:

"And now we wait for one more." The three stood in a mishmash of an assembly, where Spike and Drusilla were too preoccupied with making googly eyes at each other to notice if Elizabeth had appeared or not.

┼†‡

Elizabeth added the final touches to her appearance, then with a nervous sigh, glanced down at her dress as she stood from the vanity, and made her way out of her bedroom. As she descended the staircase, her new family came into view.

"Elizabeth," Angelus chuckled in surprise as his eyes fixated on her, "my, what a sight for sore eyes," he breathed, his smile growing broader. Spike and Drusilla's concentration was broken from each other by the amount of awe drawn from Angelus' voice and they turned to glance up. Unprepared for the visual shock of the woman moving down towards them, Spike froze. Elizabeth wore her hair in a thick plait that wound into an intricate coiffure, bundled up neatly and swept up and off her shoulders. This gave focus to her high collar which accentuated her neckline in lieu of jewellery. Her gown hugged her figure, allowing for a mature yet feminine elegance to her silhouette. At their looks of awe, the young vampire timidly cast her eyes down.

The devilish smile that Spike had reserved for his lover had slowly been replaced with wide eyes and a steady and attentive gaze as he followed Elizabeth's movement. It was only when Angelus crossed his line of vision that he realised he was staring, and he felt a little foolish for doing so. He quickly shifted his eyes downward.

"The carriage is ready and waiting," Angelus offered his hand to Elizabeth as she approached the last step. Elizabeth raised her eyes to him with a warm smile as she took his hand.

"Come, William," Drusilla swept her fingertips underneath Spike's chin, drawing him back to the present. They followed suit after the former couple and shut the front door behind them.

┼†‡

The carriage ride was relatively quiet, possibly because of the nervous tension and anticipation from the two women. When Angelus wasn't making small talk with Elizabeth, she was staring out the window and nervously wringing her hands together. Drusilla, on the other hand, chattered excitedly to Spike and completely ignored the other two passengers.

They arrived at a large chateau farther inland with a tall façade and familiar French traits of symmetry in the lines. The cobblestoned path was flanked with green lawns and manicured hedges, and in the centre of the cul-de-sac stood a large and statuesque fountain.

Walking up the short flight of steps, Angelus was stopped by a doorman whom he presented his invitation card to. The man eyed him warily for a brief moment, then allowed him and his three guests through. Once inside, they had their coats and hats checked in, then were escorted to a large dining hall where other men and women dressed in evening wear were chatting amicably amongst each other.

At a glance, anyone could tell that these people were bred from aristocratic blood, and at this, Spike pulled a face. He had never gotten along with his 'own kind'. He supposed it was somewhat of a self-loathing trait, but he never felt he had ever truly belonged with the likes of their ilk; vampire-hood had pretty much saved him from drowning further in the life of that human existence.

Drusilla had her arms lightly hooked around Spike's left arm as she glanced about her and smiled in wonder, "Oh, William, look at all the exotic animals. Bright colours, calls of the wild, and tuft feathers," she made a plucking motion with her hand as they passed some women from behind who had feathers adorned in their hair pieces.

"No 'petting the animals' just yet, precious," Angelus cautioned as he led them in their path, "be on your best behaviour for the time being."

Drusilla pouted and let out a small whine, "But it's a party. We're to have fun at parties."

"Angelus just likes to suck all the life and fun out of things," Spike scoffed.

Angelus paused and turned around to face them, "When the evening winds down, and the crowd's thinned out, do as you please. I'd like to be… acquainted with the townsfolk for the time being," he explained.

Spike drew a quizzical brow up, not entirely sure what his sire was planning, "You sure picked up some strange habits, Angelus. Been spending too much time inhaling that salty Atlantic breeze, have you?"

Angelus gave a chuckle and leaned in close, giving Spike playful yet firm smacks on the cheek, "It's called tact, my dear boy. Something you should learn." He let go before Spike could wretch his hand off himself, but he hadn't done much to actually get him riled up. Elizabeth ignored their bickering as she kept her sights to her surroundings, quite taken and slightly intimidated by the party itself. As they threaded their way through the warm bodies, Angelus spotted their human host and waved his hand at him.

Maurizio lifted his head and smiled at him broadly as he pushed through towards them, "Ah, Angelus! You've made it!" he laughed, patting his friend on the shoulder. "You all have," he turned to the other three and his eyes and smile widened when they fell to Drusilla and Elizabeth. "Drusilla, you are stunning in that dress!" he gasped, moving forward and giving her kisses on the cheeks. Spike watched him closely, not liking the man very much, and kissing his woman no less, but he made no comment and waited for him to scurry off.

Drusilla took to his comment warmly, giggling and spinning around to show off how wonderfully it had fit her, "Mer-see boh-koo!" she replied in the only French she probably knew, and probably only assuming he was saying nice things about her and the dress.

Turning to Elizabeth, Maurizio gasped, his eyes falling to the hem of her dress and trailing up to her head, "My dear…! You are just… beautiful…!" he smiled and moved towards her as he took her hand and gave her a kiss on each cheek. Elizabeth smiled gently at their host. "I did not know you could look even more lovely than you do."

"She's no longer a girl, dear Maurizio, she's a woman now," Angelus commented from behind. At this observation, Elizabeth bashfully cast her eyes downward. "It is her first time at a real party."

Maurizio looked to her in surprise, "Ah, is that so? If it isn't too much trouble, I'd like to show you around, just so you're familiar and comfortable with your surroundings. Would that be all right with you, my lady?" Maurizio smiled. Elizabeth lifted her eyes back up at Maurizio before turning to Angelus for a moment. Angelus smiled at Elizabeth encouragingly. As if she had been blessed by her mentor's silent approval, Elizabeth turned back around to her host and nodded. Angelus watched as Maurizio escorted her away before disappearing off to his own devices.

┼†‡

"I am sure my friend wouldn't mind me showing you his home, it is practically my own home away from home," Maurizio smiled at her. "I don't spot him now, but he is most likely entertaining some guests of his own." He led her to the adjoining room where there were canapés, hor d'oeuvres, and wine being served. "If you're at all feeling peckish, help yourself to a bite. Would you care for a glass of wine?" he asked, having one of the servants there pour him a glass of red wine.

"No, thank you," Elizabeth politely declined as she shook her head and picked up an hor d'oeuvre instead. "My compliments to your friend, Monsieur di Bazza. His home is very beautiful."

"He does have an attentive eye when it comes to furnishing his home," Maurizio chuckled as he swept his eyes across the room, "though I'm certain he hardly notices it himself. I'll be sure to send him these compliments," he smiled at her. Leading her out, a group of men gestured and greeted him as he approached nearer.

"Maurizio, my good man! You're barely here, but you're soon to be whisked away on another trip, I hear!" a man with a trimmed moustache called out. There was a slight wave to his dirty blonde hair and it was swept over to the side.

"Yes, the life of an entrepreneur," Maurizio laughed heartily back.

"And who is this young lady?" another man looked to Elizabeth. He had a mop of short curly brown hair and a round face.

"Ah, allow me to introduce you to Elizabeth. She's currently staying at my home along with her travelling companions. You remember Angelus?"

"The one with the doe-eyed brunette?" the third man with a thick up-curled moustache and wide sideburns covering his cheeks asked.

"Well, yes, she is also a friend of his," Maurizio corrected politely, knowing well what the man was implying. "All four of them are staying at my home. The fourth is a man- Drusilla's partner," he explained. "My apologies, Elizabeth, these scoundrels are my friends- Marcel, Raoul, and Clotaire," he gestured to each man in order whom spoke to him first. Elizabeth smiled as she turned to them.

"I do hope Maurizio is being a good host to you, Elizabeth," Marcel smiled at her kindly.

"Oh, stop it, Marcel, you're only going to scare the poor girl," Raoul wagged a finger at his friend.

"He has been the perfect host," Elizabeth replied.

"You understand why I call them 'scoundrels', now?" Maurizio laughed, shaking his head in slight.

"I would not call them scoundrels, Monsieur di Bazza; they appear to be fine gentlemen, however inquisitive they may be," Elizabeth said with a light laugh to her voice.

"Are you sure you're not just being polite, Mademoiselle Elizabeth? We're French; we have thicker skin than that of the English," Marcel teased. "I'm sure good ol' Maurizio is a hound in private," he continued, laughing a bit. Maurizio listened as they spoke, only giving Marcel a mild look of disapproval at his rude jest at him, but nonetheless did not interrupt their flow of conversation. Knowing well that Elizabeth was an exceptional conversationalist on her own, he allowed her to speak for herself.

Raoul gave Marcel a disapproving look and shook his head, "Please, Marcel, such crass behaviour in front of a lady. Do refrain from such words and behave yourself." He turned to look at the young lady in question, "I do apologise on his behalf. He has had more than one glass of wine. It makes him unruly and uninhibited," he sighed.

Elizabeth gave a friendly smile as she turned to Raoul, "Apology accepted. But I must confess, with the travelling company I keep, I am growing accustomed to such talk, much to my displeasure," she said with a lighthearted laugh.

"Ah, see, the lady is used to such talk. All this travelling is making her more worldly," Marcel said pointedly, quick to have his glass to his lips as he took a large gulp of his wine.

"And you are making it less of a welcome and hospitable environment for her with your inappropriate disregard for her fairer sex; she is a lady, for crying out loud," Raoul said to him, his voice dipping a little lower, a tone that was more heated. It was a funny sight seeing the men bicker like boys at a schoolyard. Watching this display, Elizabeth giggled with a shake of her head before turning her attention to the next speaker.

"Pay no attention to the squabbling pair," Clotaire stated, a sigh seeping into his words. "They often get like this; you'd swear they were an old married couple," he shook his head and rolled his eyes to express his annoyance. Clotaire did not care for the frivolities of his two friends and continued with some civility and remained to uphold his end of the conversation, "Elizabeth, where do you hail from? Where have you travelled so far? And where do you intend to go next?" Clotaire was the most speculative one out of the bunch, as well as the heftiest and oldest of the three. The former men ranged from their late twenties to early thirties, and Clotaire was a man in his mid to late thirties.

"I am from London, Monsieur, and I haven't the foggiest where I should go from here. Life has been an adventure so far."

"Ah, London," he nodded. "Your French is exceptional, Elizabeth," he said with a smile. "I've visited on one occasion to the city. It was quite an experience, very different from the French and Mediterranean air. Life surely is an adventure, as I can attest to that," he smiled, his cheeks ruddy. "If I could make a suggestion on your next travels: Russia is a lovely country- if you don't mind the cold so much. It is most certainly for someone who would be open to the idea of new adventures and experiences."

"Russia, you say? Hmm, I do hate the cold, but perhaps I should visit some time," Elizabeth said with a nod.

"Though, I wonder, what was cause for you to wander into these parts of France? I understand that often most English do saunter down here because of the mild winters, but with the strange party that has accompanied you," he gestured in the air, indicating the likes of Angelus, Spike, and Drusilla that were her travelling companions, people that were not her immediate family, "one cannot help but wonder…," he asked, naturally curious on his part.

"Another companion and I were separated from our group and met here in Nice," Elizabeth found herself more at ease now that she was involved in civil conversation, something she was quite good at. Though what she said was in part true, in one form or another, she had not completely answered the question. The reason alone wasn't fit for human ears, nor was it believable. Upon hearing a number swell from the musicians, the bookish young lady began to appear a bit shy and worried, being reminded that she was at a party.

Maurizio finally joined in on their conversation: "I have a friend that lives in Russia. I have been meaning to expand my business there one day. Perhaps if you are in town, whether you are with or without your friends, you may want to join me on that excursion," he suggested politely.

Marcel cackled at Maurizio's words, "I'm sure he'd rather prefer it if it were just the two of you. Oh, Maurizio, you hound, hiding your intentions under the cloak of a courteous host. Is that how you do it?" he continued to laugh.

Elizabeth flushed at this sudden accusation but merely shook her head again and smiled politely as she looked to her host, "Perhaps I will one day. I have never seen Russia and would imagine I could brave the cold for a while."

"Come now, Marcel, you've had your fill of wine, and have just lost all your dignity," Raoul began to usher him along, nudging him with firm yet controlled pats. "You know he means no harm in his drunken state," he looked to Maurizio first for confirmation, then to Elizabeth. "I do hope the rest of your evening goes well after we take our leave. My deepest apologies if he has offended you in any way," Raoul bowed with a slight nod of his head, then continued to guide his inebriated and protesting friend out with him.

Maurizio smiled apologetically to Elizabeth, "He is much more tolerable and inhibited when he's sober, I assure you," he said in his friend's defense, despite having the other saying humiliating things about him. "I'm sure he'll realise the folly of his words when he comes to."

"But does he ever learn?" Clotaire looked to his friend, his expression weary, as though to answer his own question with a resounding 'no'.

"Time will only tell," Maurizio sighed, his gaze trailing after the two men till they were out of his sight.

Watching the men leave, Elizabeth sighed, "I am used to such behaviour as well. My companion can be a little… unruly at times."

"Ah, yes, the one you're referring to, Monsieur William Pratt, I presume," Maurizio looked to Elizabeth and smiled, never breaking his composure of a good and polite host, despite the absence of said guest. "He… is a rather… cantankerous one, is he not?" he chose his words carefully, not wanting to say something that was in ill light of Elizabeth's friend. "Rather, someone that very much marches to the beat of his own drum, it appears," Maurizio speculated.

"Sounds like an utter dread to deal with, if you ask me," Clotaire interjected.

Maurizio forced a smile at his friend, "'Tis a good thing you are not his host then, for I'd believe your patience would wear thin as soon as he set foot into your home."

"Mm, I suppose you've always held much more restraint than I have, dear Maurizio, I commend you for that. I would love to continue our conversation on travels, Elizabeth, but if you'll excuse me, I'll need to refresh my glass," he tinkered with the empty crystal in his hands, then retreated from them.

"I do hope my friends aren't overwhelming you too much, Elizabeth," Maurizio said as he slowly began to guide her through the crowd of bodies, "do let me know if you're growing weary of conversing with them. I shall find a means to slip you out without much discourse," he gave her a small wink. At this, Elizabeth's shy smile became accented by a barely noticeable flush to her cheeks, not being used to such attention. It was Maurizio- a charming and kind host and pleasant company- as well as her mentor, Angelus, that made her almost forget the events that had happened to her. It was as though everything was normal; she almost believed the lie she had spun around them herself, that she had been given permission to go on an adventure with a family friend.

Maurizio managed to show her most of the main level and other public areas of the chateau, including another impressive library that was possibly even grander than his. The pair eventually found themselves back within the dancehall of chattering socialites. This time, a woman with dark, curled locks piled atop of her head perked up when he came into her view.

" _Caro_ Maurizio!" she called to him; a bright smile stretched across her face, revealing rather shiny white and straight teeth. Elizabeth paused as she turned her head towards her. The woman shuffled forward with outstretched arms, not shy to give Maurizio a full embrace as they exchanged kisses on either sides of their cheeks. She spoke to him rapidly in Italian, her voice rolling off in staccatos of high pitched laughter and something resembling raindrops falling on a tiled rooftop. She periodically shifted her dark eyes to Elizabeth, then would look back to Maurizio, her smile gentle and sweet as they exchanged words in their private conversation. Not familiar with the Italian language, Elizabeth retained a polite smile as she patiently waited for them to complete their friendly exchange. Finally, the woman pulled away from the male and turned to Elizabeth directly and beamed another toothy grin. Her coral dress shimmered sleek against the frame of her small waist and full figure as she rustled towards her, each shifting footstep allowing different tones of orange and red to catch under the lights. Though her dress was trimmed in modesty with an appropriate curved neckline, her large bosom was still evident, even while pressed beneath a corset.

"Allow me to introduce-" Maurizio began, when the woman interrupted him as she raised her hand in midair.

"It is all right, I have a voice myself," she spoke in English with a noticeable accent, something that sounded muddled between French and Italian. "I am Maddelena de Beauvoir, wife of Pierre de Beauvoir, and hostess of the party," her voice was husky and bubbly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Madam de Beauvoir."

"My husband is one who is hard to catch, but I'd say I manage well on my own, if not better," Maddelena laughed. She was a woman who appeared to be in her early thirties and had about her an infectious youthful energy. The bright colours of the fabric glinted and contrasted against the olive complexion of her skin, despite her efforts to lighten her face with powders to make her appear fairer. She bowed her head down slightly to speak to Elizabeth, standing a few inches taller than the younger female, "You are Elizabeth, yes? My dear friend Maurizio tells me you are staying at his home as his honourable guest."

"I do hope my host has told you good things about me," Elizabeth said with a light laugh.

"Very good things," Maddelena nodded in agreement, "as though he were speaking of a prized race horse," she chuckled, throwing her head back slightly as she covered a gloved hand over her mouth. She straightened herself out as her laughter died down, "Not to worry, that comparison is a good thing," she beamed, pulling her hand around Elizabeth's upper right arm as she now relieved Maurizio of his duties, replacing him as tourguide. "It isn't often he has a female visitor stay there," she smiled. "I find it a refreshing take to hear some gossip from a female counterpart."

"It would be. After many weeks travelling with male companions, it would be nice to socialise with a woman for a change," Elizabeth replied in a timid yet friendly tone.

"What's it like travelling around in the company of Angelus?" Maddelena turned to glance down at her new friend, her question ringing with curiosity. Her attention was now completely focused on this stranger as though a new toy, and she had completely forgotten about the old friend who trailed behind them, quiet and unseen.

Elizabeth smiled up at the woman as she began to relax in her company, "It is an adventure, to say the very least. He is a very good and dear friend of mine." As she walked arm in arm with her hostess, her eyes drifted to the dancers on the dance floor. She watched them with an almost quizzical and dreamlike interest, like a small girl watching the ballerina pirouette in a music box.

"Mm, I dare say it must be thrilling to have him by your side," Maddelena said. "He's such a mysterious man," her fingers entwined around Elizabeth's arm playfully, "and a handsome one at that," her voice took on a dreamlike quality as she stared off vacantly.

"I… suppose he is. He has made my stay quite comfortable thus far," Elizabeth said softly as a means to conceal her curiosity and confusion. Why would a married woman speak about another man with so much affection in the tone of her voice that was not her own husband?

"Though… I have yet to see him," Maddelena craned her neck as she looked about the room. "He did receive the invitation, yes?" she looked to the younger female, her expression dropping into something a little more serious as a slight crease showed between her brows.

"He has. He is my escort for the night, but I do not know where he went," Elizabeth said with a slight sigh of relief, momentarily escaping the promise she had made with Angelus of having her first dance. The terse lines on Maddelena's brow softened and relief appeared to wash over her face with Elizabeth's well-received news. "Do you know Angelus well?" Elizabeth asked curiously whilst remaining polite to her hostess; she scanned the room for her mentor herself.

"Well, we actually met at a party," Maddelena laughed, continuing her cheerful banter as she walked on slowly, "not one of our own, but a friend's. He was introduced through Maurizio, in fact, to my husband. Thankfully, I was not far from his side, and had the pleasure of meeting him myself. He left quite an impression," she smiled broadly at Elizabeth. Her little story might have given hint of another meaning altogether if one cued in on how she behaved with just mention of the Irishman's name. "Though, I must say, I have not seen him since that engagement," she pulled out her lace fan and fluttered it rapidly by her face, hiding what may have been disappointment or some creeping flush. "My husband is not that well acquainted with him, and I believe that Angelus deals more solely with Maurizio. They don't rally in the same fields of business," she sighed as she glanced to her female companion, "but if I had any say in this, I would have made some executive changes and dealt with things more accordingly. Perhaps then, he and I would have more… frequent visitations…," she said, glancing down as a small smile appeared on her lips. Listening to her story, the young vampire resisted the urge to arch a brow at the implications that their meeting could have been more than just a meeting among friends. Elizabeth shook her head slightly and quickly rejected the very notion of that idea. To even entertain the thought that her mentor and friend could be anything less than the kind gentleman she knew him to be was unfathomable.

Maddelena stopped mid step and looked across the dance floor, her posture stiffening, and the air about her turning sour, "Oh, _she_ is here," she said with evident displeasure. Elizabeth followed her gaze to see Drusilla dancing with her sire far across the room. "I should have known that if Angelus were to come, _she_ would be close to follow," Maddelena's voice dipped low and rattled off rapidly, almost making it difficult to understand that she was speaking English altogether. Drusilla might have had the potential to be maddening in mixed company, but that would not warrant such talk behind her back. As if she had heard Maddelena speaking ill of her, she stopped in the middle of the floor and turned her head to stare directly at the lady of the house. Her eyes were wide and her expression was unreadable. Maddelena froze and simply stared back till a scarlet flush rose up from her neck and over her cheeks. Fluttering her eyes, she turned her head to the side and fanned at her heated face, feeling visibly embarrassed that Angelus' strange female companion had seemed to know she had been speaking of her, but namely because Maddelena did not feel comfortable with that woman. Seeing her grandsire take such notice almost immediately caused Elizabeth to smile as she stifled a giggle behind a gloved hand.

"Drusilla is a good friend of mine as well," Elizabeth said in a gentle but stern tone. Giving a smile to her grandmother, she continued to walk with Maddelena on what Elizabeth suspected was a search for Angelus.

Maddelena continued to fan at her face as though she were fanning away her past embarrassments, "Oh, is she?" the hostess looked to Elizabeth, then dared to steal a glance back to where Drusilla stood, only to find that she was no longer there. Letting a small sigh of relief below her breath, she looked back to Elizabeth, "I cannot help but feel… unsettled in her presence," she admitted.

Elizabeth's smile slightly shrank in size as she looked back up at Maddelena, "She does have… an effect on people, but she is kind all the same," she assured her with a kind look.

"There is something strange about her. It is like… she can hear the thoughts inside your head," Maddelena said carefully. She shook her head then, "You probably think that mad of me. My husband thinks the same, but I cannot shake that feeling."

"It surely isn't mad of you to say. Everyone has those feelings at one time or another. As of late, I cannot help but feel as though I am being watched, even when there is no one there," Elizabeth confided to the elder woman to make her feel more at ease.

"Thank you for not ridiculing me," Maddelena replied, letting a bit of tension go with Elizabeth's reassurance. "I feel like when she looks into my eyes, she's looking into the darkest, most vulnerable parts of my soul."

"But Drusilla is like the elder sister I never had," Elizabeth added, firmly reinstating that she did not wish for anyone- be it the hostess- to speak ill of her grandmother. Maddelena silently took note of this and formally ended that topic of conversation. "All three of them… are like family to me," the younger woman said with a confidence that she did not have before.

Maddelena collapsed her fan and let the end of it tap gently against her chin in thought, "'Three'?" she echoed. "Who is the third member? Have I met this person before?" she blinked at her curiously.

Looking back to see Drusilla and her sire gone, Elizabeth shook her head, "No, I would imagine not. We have only arrived a short time ago. William is a friend of mine and Drusilla's love." At mention of this, the elder female paused in her steps momentarily as she looked to Elizabeth before resuming. "We joined Drusilla and Angelus here in Nice about…," her voice trailed off in thought, "two weeks ago."

"So, I am to understand, that she is not Angelus' lover?" Maddelena smiled to herself. "I suppose I misunderstood the status of their relationship. Perhaps I could grow to befriend her," she hummed. Hearing a familiar frame of music begin to play, Elizabeth's blue eyes once again scanned over the crowd of dancers as her fingers lightly tapped the tune on the side of her dress, all the while resisting the urge to bite her lip out of nervous habit. Noticing her little nervous ticks, Maddelena turned to glance at Elizabeth, "You are in good company, dear," she patted at her hand as she pulled her gently along. "I shall let you know whom you should avoid," she giggled. "Come!" she laughed, taking off into a quick dash as she tugged at Elizabeth's hand to keep up.

"M-Maddelena!" Maurizio called out in surprise as she sped past him with his young guest in tow.

"It is all right, Maurizio, you can stay put!" she laughed. Giggling, Elizabeth waved goodbye to the perplexed man as they fled from where he remained standing.

Maddelena bounded up the curved stairwell, then perched herself at the top of the staircase that overlooked the party. "Ah, such a better view from here!" she grinned broadly, pressing herself against the bannister. Using her fan, she began to point at some of the guests down below: "Those men in the corner- elitists and snobs; mostly just talk. The men that work beneath them is what provides the food on their tables. If you just put on a smile, they'll surely believe whatever you tell them," she turned to look at Elizabeth and grinned, "-not the brightest either." Maddelena pointed to another area of the floor where a thin and grey haired man stood with a woman who seemed to have too many feathers in her hair, "Monsieur Rene Cartier- one of the kindest men you'd ever encounter. Has a hard time recalling names, but he does remember one's face. 'Tis a shame he married such a trollop of a woman. Only converse with him when she is absent," Maddelena warned. "Oh, Josephine Descartes," she indicated at the doorway where a young woman had just entered, "don't be fooled by her innocent and youthful appearance; she is already on her third marriage. Not one for luck, really, having two of her husbands die such tragic deaths. We all expect her current husband to befall the same fate any day now," she shrugged almost indifferently.

Standing next to her, Elizabeth smiled as she avidly listened, "I must say, it is rather strange to me to know so many people," she said as she gazed at the people Maddelena had mentioned.

"They're all just fodder for gossip," Maddelena spun around to face Elizabeth. "Though, hearing the same stories that happen to the same people does get rather tiresome," she sighed. Glancing over her shoulder, she peered down at a circle of giggling women, "And the women here, not surprisingly, are rather dull."

"Before I began to travel with my three friends, I did not socialise much," Elizabeth said a little softly, suddenly feeling self conscious as she felt a small bout of anxiety creeping back.

Maddenlena turned back to her new friend, "Well, now that you are in Nice, I shall pull the words out of you!" she chuckled as she brought her face close to Elizabeth's almost teasingly. "But, London! That is such a long way from home! I have been to Italy, but otherwise, the farthest I've travelled is just two cities over. I would love to experience all the wonders that you have," she said longingly and playfully envious. She spun back around and placed her elbows against the banister, "Do you ever just wonder what it'd be like to have a different life?" She pressed her cheek to a gloved palm as she gazed out across the floor, "I live a life of comfort, but sometimes I wonder, what it would be like if I were someone else. I see these people here, and sometimes I would imagine what their lives would be like if I were them." She giggled a bit and looked to Elizabeth, "Is that silly of me to be such a daydreamer? My husband will often leave me alone, so I'd take to my imagination. That has been my greatest companion," she confided.

Elizabeth's small smile only widened as she turned to look at Maddelena, "Not in the least. I was rarely allowed to leave my own manor's grounds, so I took to reading. So much, in fact, that I would imagine the stories coming to life in front of me. I never thought anyone felt the way I did. My father once told me that had he not known better, he would say I was mad," she said with a slight bittersweet giggle.

"I believe I may have found a bit of a soulmate in you," Maddelena laughed, her smile not as grand, but something that was genuinely sweet and appreciative, knowing that she shared something in common with another. "Well," she pulled Elizabeth by the arm till their sides touched, "if your father calls you mad, and my husband, I, then we shall both be it together," she grinned, turning her chin up into the air almost defiantly.

Elizabeth smiled up at her new friend, "To quote my favourite book as a child: 'All the best people are'. "

Maddelena placed a hand over her face as she giggled before glancing back down below her, "I may be the hostess of the party, but even I don't remember all these names and faces. Shall we make it a bit more entertaining for our own sake?" she glanced a smile at the shorter female. It was with a laugh that Elizabeth nodded at her new friend and looked down at the crowd. Maddelena turned back to pick out a random stranger within the crowd, "That man, there," she pointed at a mustachioed man with a coif of wild and seemingly untamed hair, standing almost uncomfortably straight as he walked about with his chest puffed out, "he just had his chicken butchered, but discovered a nest of eggs. He feels guilty so he is keeping one of the eggs nestled between the warmth of his buttocks so that it can hatch," she began to giggle again.

"Hmm," Elizabeth looked down and pointed at a woman who had her face turned to the ceiling as she furiously fanned herself, refusing any man a dance. "That woman, right there, she has gone a little daft, you see. She thinks she is a hot air balloon and is trying to fan the flame so that she can fly away," she said with a light laugh and flushed cheeks. It was a little unbecoming of her to play such a childish and slightly vindictive game, but it was fun to her all the same.

Maddelena's giggles grew shrill at Elizabeth's observation, "Oh, oh my!" she managed to utter between breaths. "I have not heard of such absurdities," having managed to quiet down after a moment, she formed her words more coherently, "but I must say, that makes absolute sense when you put her in that light." She glanced about the room, searching for her next victim, "Hmm… ah," a slow smile spread across her face when she spotted a woman with a much too exaggerated bustle. "One might believe she's current and fashion forward with her bold choice of dress, but in fact, she's afflicted with kleptomania and inadvertently stuffs anything she can get her hands on into the sack she has hidden beneath her dress." The lady of the house giggled as the woman below shuffled awkwardly forward, as though she indeed was carrying some unwanted weight beneath her bustle. Having her bump into the edge of a small table only caused Maddelena to erupt into more fits. Elizabeth laughed as she watched this before looking around for another person to be the star in another tale. After a little while, she spotted a rather large man dancing with a woman with a bit too much gusto, as he jerked the poor woman about the room.

"That man there. See, he is a man of prestige, but he had other dreams of being a strongman in a circus. He still wants to show his great strength by nearly throwing women across the floor, dress and all," she said with a laugh as the woman he danced with almost flew out of his grasp time and time again.

"How terrible it must be to be his dance partner," Maddelena laughed. "I'll be sure to decline his offer if he ever attempts to approach me." She turned her attention to the band this time, noting the song change as the cellist played his bow more fervently. "He initially began his career as a carpenter," she pointed, "constantly at work with his handsaw. Someone thought it funny to replace his tool with a bow and the wood with a cello, but discovered that he was quite the musician. Yet, even now, he hasn't noticed the difference. Perhaps only after he opens his eyes, he'll realise the change," she chuckled, noticing how enraptured the cellist appeared to be as he played with closed eyes and slight sway to his body. "You must admit, it is a lovely tune for a carpenter," she giggled, looking to Elizabeth. Elizabeth giggled as she held onto her friend's arm as if to brace herself from falling.

"What's this I hear about a carpenter?" a male's voice spoke, interrupting the girls' naughty game of make-believe.

Maddelena turned her head towards the stairwell to see Angelus ascending the steps, "Oh, Angelus," she dropped her lace fan in surprise. With some embarrassment, Elizabeth timidly smiled at her mentor. The tall male strode towards them and bent down to retrieve the fan before Maddelena had a chance to reach for it.

"Lady Maddelena," he stood in front of her as he smiled, allowing her to pull the fan from his grasp, "such a pleasure to see you again." Apparently flustered, Maddelena could not utter much of a word as she intently watched her guest place a kiss on her hand.

"As it is, you," she breathed, a healthy flush making its way once more across her smiling face.

"I see that the two of you have met," Angelus glanced between the two women.

"Ah, yes, Elizabeth has been saving me from tears of boredom," Maddelena peered to her as her grin broadened, having already established some shared secrets between them. Elizabeth returned a secretive smile.

"I hope all has been well," Angelus smiled politely, making sure to give them both adequate attention. "Elizabeth, with the change of pace, I do believe you promised me your first dance," he offered his arm expectantly, now taking advantage of the young woman's word. Being reminded of this, Elizabeth took his arm with slightly downcast eyes. "Excuse me, Maddelena," Angelus paused to say to their hostess before taking their leave.

"D-do save a dance for me tonight!" Maddelena called after them as Angelus descended the stairs and led them towards the dance floor.

┼†‡

Angelus bowed ceremoniously and Elizabeth dipped gracefully into a curtsy before he began to lead them in dance. "You seem to be enjoying yourself very much here," he noted, casting his all too familiar sweet smile. "Already found yourself a female friend, and the lady of the house, no less."

"I am, much to my surprise. Maddelena is such a lovely woman."

"You didn't require any help at all. I don't know what your father was so worried about," he chuckled, slowly turning them in slow circles in tune with the rhythm of the strings. Elizabeth giggled a bit as she wondered that herself. "Was this at all what you had expected? I hope you'd favour this over tea and socials you were forced to attend," Angelus peered at her hopefully, a look that wished she was at least pleased with the outcome of events.

"Oh, yes, better than I had expected. I thought I was going to keep to a corner chair and be a wallflower until the evening came to a close," she said in a soft tone as she looked up at him.

Angelus chuckled, "Not if I, or any other man in this room, could help it," he reassured her. "I'm positive any other male with functioning sight would vie for a chance to dance with you." Elizabeth blushed as she smiled up at him.

Meanwhile, across the other end of the long room, the sound of a door smacking hard against a wall resounded above the quaint and melodious strings. This was simultaneously followed by cackling laughter, coming from a pair that had distinctly discernible voices that could be picked out from the ocean of others. Elizabeth stopped mid step and looked in the direction of the noise, just as Angelus closed his eyes and let loose a sigh between pursed lips. He glanced to where the noises trajected. Slipping into the assemblage of well dressed upperclassmen were Spike and Drusilla, returning from what one might assume was a broom closet.

"Let's not let William spoil this moment," Angelus said, ignoring all other aspects his progenies might have been doing. Looking back up at Angelus, Elizabeth nodded as they continued to dance.

The other couple had not yet noticed that they were not the only immortals dancing on that shared floor. Despite Angelus' warnings, they still bent some of his words to their will, but appeared quite restrained in public, considering what they were capable of.

As they danced, Elizabeth would timidly glance up at Angelus ever so often as she retained a shy smile. The corners of Angelus' lips would twitch upward into a bigger smile each time she lifted her shy gaze to his. The remainder of the dance was relatively quiet, save for some moments when a small chuckle escaped past his lips. As the song came to a close, Angelus gave his great grandprogeny one last sweeping turn before stepping apart and bowing to her much more deeply. Elizabeth smiled sweetly in return as she curtsied, and resisted the urge to bite at her lip.

"You dance wonderfully, Elizabeth," Angelus smiled as he straightened up.

"Thank you, Angelus…. You dance quite well yourself," she said shyly as she looked up at her great grandsire. Not having the opportunity to request another dance or even an offer for refreshments, the male's attention was pulled towards Drusilla, who conveniently seemed to appear at their side within moments of the song's transition.

"I would like for you to request a dance with me, Angelus," she said, jutting her bottom lip out into a pout.

"You want me to ask you?" Angelus raised his brows quizzically, obviously amused by her strange wish.

"Yes, of course. It is customary for the man to ask the woman's hand in dance. So it would only be proper for you to ask me," Drusilla continued, her brows slightly furrowed above her large eyes.

"Yes… yes, of course," Angelus sighed, giving in to her demand. Drusilla giggled and clapped her hands excitedly before encircling her arm around the one that her sire offered. Pulling Angelus in her tow, she spaced some distance from where Elizabeth remained. She glanced over her shoulder and flashed Elizabeth a departing look, her smile waning and eyes dimmed. Flicking her head back around, Drusilla turned to face Angelus as they positioned themselves for the next number.

Elizabeth's bright smile at her grandsire was suddenly diminished. It puzzled her how the woman who cared and looked after her could look so much like a jealous lover. And for just a moment, made her question the honour of both of them again. Shaking that thought from her mind, a nice chair came into her view as she began to walk towards it.

"You do realise it is poor etiquette for a lady to promenade the dance floor unaccompanied," a familiar voice intervened before Elizabeth had much chance to retire to the vacant chair. It was her sire's voice that brought Elizabeth out of her thoughts and back into the moment. Spike walked indifferently towards her, "I suppose I cannot place blame on you entirely, seeing how Drusilla made haste to part you from Angelus," he said, giving a small shrug of one shoulder whilst shifting his gaze to the floor as he let out a small sigh. Looking up at him, she quirked her brow slightly at his reminder of etiquette and had the 'good graces' to forgive her for the circumstances.

"Thank you for forgiving-"

"Well," he clasped his hands in front of him as he looked to her, "seeing as I'm already here, will you do me the honour of dancing with me?" he looked to her with modest indifference, an expression that was common place for a man- or demon- of his character. Being interrupted from her sarcastic thanks, Elizabeth found it a bit strange, since she had been a little more than a thorn in his side for the past few weeks. Still, the offer was greeted with a warm and polite smile.

"I would be delighted," she said lightheartedly. Spike assumed his position across from her, then gave a small bow before offering his hand for her to take. He stood there idly, standing at a civil distance with his other hand placed appropriately at the small of her back, then dipped into the tempo of the music. As they danced, Elizabeth found it strange that she didn't feel timid or worried with him. It was a strange occurrence altogether that he would even think to dance with her after the last few days of tension between them. Spike let loose another sigh as he looked to his progeny, then snorted a laugh as he bowed his head to avert his eyes. Looking up at him, Elizabeth stiffened her neck slightly, "What's so funny?" she asked in a tone only they could hear, one that was laced with hesitance and a bit of embarrassment if it were the case that he was laughing at her.

Looking back at her, Spike could not help but grin, "Oh, you know, I'm just considering the amount of hypocrisy you're committing right now. I mean, you were practically a nun, yet here you are, dancing with a man-" Spike paused in thought, "well, maybe not a man, but a male no less. You know what I mean," he managed to explain himself. "One would even consider dancing a cousin to fornication," he smirked. "Besides the men you fed on, this must be the closest you've ever been in proximity to one," he continued. There was little Elizabeth could do that would cause a scene, warranting her sire a much deserved slap or a hostile and hasty getaway at those remarks.

Elizabeth took a shaky breath to calm herself before she spoke, "You asked me to dance just to laugh at me?" she tried to look unaffected by his words, but her cheeks slowly gained colour and betrayed her once again. Hiding her feelings was something the young vampire was not ever good at.

"Come now, _Lizzy_ ," Spike began, "that was not my intention at all, believe me. I'm just so bloody _bored!_ " he rolled his eyes at this. At his admittance, Elizabeth could not help but laugh. "Drusilla isn't with me at the moment, and Angelus must have something shoved so far up his arse, he's forbidding us to 'play'. It leaves little room for entertainment on my part. Hence, the dancing," he explained. "Besides, communication and introductions would be an issue for me if I were to ask anyone else here- not that I would consider it," he added, " _so_ ," he paused for a couple of seconds, "that leaves you." He looked to her a little more seriously, "Had you not asked me why I was laughing, you would not have learned the reason. Really, you cannot fault me for answering your query," he said rather matter-of-factly. Looking up at him, Elizabeth could not help but see the logic in his answer, albeit flawed and twisted.

With a sigh laced laugh, she tilted her head to the side, "I admire your honesty." Despite their quarrelling, there was always a strange sense of understanding between the two.

Spike pulled his head back as he looked to her, his face twisted in disgust, "You ' _admire_ ' my ' _honesty_ '?" He rolled his eyes, "Please, the next words you'll be uttering will be you think I actually have a good heart." He paused to look at her and said in a mildly threatening tone, "And don't you _dare_ say that."

"Trust me, I would never be so daft to assume you even have one," Elizabeth chuckled.

"That's better," Spike replied. "Wait a minute, hey-" realising the insult the words actually implied, he narrowed his eyes at her. "Never mind," he sighed, giving his head a small shake. "Let's move past this topic now, shall we?" It was obvious these compliments of aspiring and good moral characteristics made the male uncomfortable. "Hmm," he thought in contemplation as to what they could possibly converse about. "Oh. Who was that you were with? That woman? Dru said that she doesn't take too kindly to her. Thought maybe I'd take her as a snack when this is all over."

"Lady Maddelena; she is a friend. It is just a misunderstanding between them is all. We actually became quite close when I spoke to her," Elizabeth said with a smile, taking comfort in knowing she had a friend who truly understood how her mind worked in times of loneliness.

"So… I am to understand that… it would cause you great displeasure if I were to end her life?" he brightened up a bit and smiled. "I've got more incentive to do so now," Spike laughed.

"Yes," Elizabeth said with a sigh, "I suppose you do. I also know that if Paris was any indication, you are indeed stronger than me, and I cannot stop you," she said softly.

"Ugh, _Paris_ ," Spike pulled a face. "I can't help but feel mixed emotions whenever that's mentioned now. That little scuffle we shared in Notre-Dame will be a fond one," he smiled as he reminisced. "Being nearly guillotined on the other hand…."

"Good thing I am resourceful," Elizabeth said in reference to her saving him from both the sun and his execution that day with her developed playacting.

"Perhaps I shall make a quick revisit and kill off those who wronged me," he said a little more quietly, debating whether he would actually go through with those plans. "Lovely to have you on board, though," Spike said to her, happy that Elizabeth was finally seeing things reasonably.

"I assume that would just leave me alone again- friendless, with hardly anyone but my sire and my dear grandmother to talk to. I found a collection of some grim tales in the library that can serve many a night of bedtime stories," she said in a nonchalant tone.

Spike squinted his eyes at her, "Are you… are you trying to blackmail me by stealing Drusilla? With bedtime stories," he said more stately. "You wouldn't dare," he challenged her. Seeing him come to the realisation of what she was implying pleased Elizabeth to know that she for once had the upper hand.

It was then that a mischievous little smile spread across her lips as she looked up at her sire, matching his gaze with her own,"Wouldn't I?" she said in response.

Spike continued to challenge her with his unwavering gaze, but soon forfeited, "Fine. I'll spare her life for the time being. But when the moment comes that we're to leave Nice, I shall no longer be required to hold this obligation," he forewarned. The agreement pleased Elizabeth, knowing she would have a friend other than her family to talk to and relate with. But the little satisfaction she had quickly left her eyes and was replaced with remorse. Spike scoffed once more, feeling a little scathed his progeny would blackmail him by taking away the time he would be having coitus with Drusilla. Looking more glum than he had been initially, he grumbled, "Not an ounce of compassion or empathy for the likes of me, but when it comes to Angelus, you're quick to take defense. To think I was about to pay you a nice compliment for once," he sniffed indignantly.

"That…," she paused, "that is where you are wrong. I care- in some strange way- like you care for me. Please, I don't want my friend harmed. Out of all the times I have been there for you, I wouldn't think I have a total lack of compassion," she said in a soft and apologetic tone.

Spike scoffed, "'Care'? You sure have a funny way about showing that," he continued to lead them in dance, never missing a beat with the music despite their growing disagreements. Elizabeth kept her eyes downcast for most of his onslaught. "That appears to be a rather implausible assumption you've made on my part," he laughed. "Me, caring? About you?" he laughed again. The showcase smile that Elizabeth had managed to uphold wavered. "The only thing I care about, other than myself, is Drusilla. Angelus and Darla assuage my need to be entertained at times, but if they were to perish," he shrugged, "it would make little difference in my unlife. As for you," Spike paused to glance over her face, "you're just… there." With his last virulent remark, the song began to end.

' _There'?_

She was… just there.

Taking in that fact was painful to say the least. Elizabeth had helped him, talked to him, thought him to be her only friend- if a friend at all. It had never occurred to the youngest vampire that she was just something around to keep her sire from being bored. Looking up at him, she tried to remain stoic except for her smile, trying with all her strength to mask the mild pain with eyes of ice.

Elizabeth's reception to his words was something he was used to- taking on a mute role, complacent, and good-natured. Spike was oblivious to the actual hurt he had inflicted upon her with his brutal honesty, or rather, a truth that he had not yet realised that might have been only a half-truth. Stepping back and releasing his hold on her, he bowed once more to end their dance. "Now to decide what to do," he sighed, turning to see that Angelus and Drusilla were making their way towards them.

"Birdy's got a ravenous appetite tonight. Filling her beak with two worms, it seems," Drusilla said to Elizabeth as she approached, her words taking on a tone that was slightly more abrasive.

Spike looked to his lover and quirked a brow, surprised at her onslaught himself, "Dru?" he pulled her hand and unhinged her from Angelus' arm.

"Do I still have your heart, love?" she said to him, a slight pout to her lips.

"Always and forever, pet," he replied. Angelus said nothing but quietly observed their interactions. Elizabeth did not know which was worse- having the man she thought was a friend admit she just merely existed around him, or the woman who treated her like a dear younger sister speak so abrasively to her without telling her what she did wrong. Looking slightly away from them, she wanted to excuse herself and find a cosy corner to stay in until they left for home.

"Angelus," Maddelena called out. Angelus turned his head to see that she was being escorted by Maurizio, followed by another man and woman.

"Maddelena," he smiled as she neared. Looking to the other man, he recognised him to be her husband- a Frenchman with neatly combed back dark locks and a trimmed mustache. "Pierre, such a pleasure to see you again. As the host of the party, I expected no less from you. It's magnificent."

Pierre smiled accordingly to Angelus' words of approbation, "'Tis an honour to have you as a guest, Angelus," he gave him a small nod in greeting. Turning to glance at the woman at his arm, he patted at her hand before speaking, "Allow me to introduce to you my cousin, Emeline de Beauvoir." She had a round and youthful face, her age probably within Elizabeth's range, and bright blue eyes. Her brown hair, was pulled up away from her face, allowing some ringlets to cascade down her back.

Angelus kissed the gloved hand that she had offered, giving her a gentle smile that caused her to blush, "Lovely to meet you, Miss Emeline."

"Maddelena spoke very highly of you," she breathed, "a-as did Maurizio," she added quickly.

"Did they?" Angelus smiled charmingly. "That pleases me," he said as he looked to her, saying those words a little quieter as though they were alone. Straightening himself upright, Angelus turned his attention back to the group, "You remember Drusilla from before," he gestured to her with his right hand. "This is my associate, William Pratt," he motioned towards Spike who looked to the other strangers with little interest, "and my friend, Elizabeth… Lorn," he turned to glance at her and smiled. Elizabeth was silent again save for a bright and polite smile. Quickly turning back to face his friends, Angelus continued, "This is Pierre de Beauvoir and his wife, Maddelena, the host and hostess of the party," he said to his two recently reunited companions. Spike nodded to the host passively, but gave a small, secretive smile and nod to the hostess.

"We would like to propose that the eight of us join in a quadrille," Maddelena spoke, looking to Angelus first, then to his friends as she smiled brightly.

"Dear, it should be the man that should suggest the request," Pierre said to her.

"I am the hostess of the party, after all, that small detail shan't be a problem, should it?" she said in her defense, keeping things light and the momentum going. Angelus glanced to Spike and Drusilla. The look on Spike's face was one that did not want to take part in their festivities, whereas Drusilla actually appeared excited.

Turning now to Elizabeth, Angelus took a step towards her and lowered his voice, "Are you familiar with this form of dance?"

"I have joined in once or twice at family gatherings," Elizabeth replied softly, resisting the ever present urge to decline and find the nearest chair to hopefully disappear into the scenery.

Turning back to Maddelena, Angelus smiled, "It appears we have ourselves a quadrille."

"Splendid!" she smiled broadly up at him, her shiny teeth peeking through her lips. She idled in her spot, expectant and waiting as she continued to smile at him.

After a very brief pause, Angelus cued in on what her intentions were, "Shall I have the pleasure of dancing this set with you, Maddelena?"

"With pleasure, sir," she replied, her eyes never leaving him.

Being once again relieved from his female friend, Maurizio walked across to Elizabeth, "Will you honour me with your hand for this quadrille?" he smiled at her politely.

Elizabeth smiled at her host and gave him her hand with a little dip of her head, "Of course," she said with a happier tone to her once sobering voice. It was a comforting thought to know that even though her sire did not care for her, and her grandsire had found some fault in her, she at least had friends- all be it three.

┼†‡

Dancing within a quadrille required a bit of coordination on each dancer's part. If one individual fell out of step, it would cause the other dancers to fall out of place as well, and on the odd occurrence, a collision of sorts. Though the steps were relatively simple to follow and memorise, having to execute it in time with the accompanying music required a little knowhow of measure. And though the performance of the sets within a quadrille were relatively tame, injuries, surprisingly, were also a possibility. At moments, there were some partner switching, but they would return to their main dancer. On another point, all four females stepped into the square to place one hand into the centre, stepping around in a full circle till they had returned back to their initial position, to then return home.

It was rather easy for Elizabeth to dance in this way, having her upbringing help her immensely in this particular instance. Dancing with Maurizio proved to be a calm and even fun experience. He was kind and even supportive when she had started off a little stiffly. Joining the ladies in the circle was simple enough, remembering exactly which hand to place in, a feat that was a little difficult when she was younger.

As Drusilla stepped behind Elizabeth, her eyes remained focused at the back of her head, and her smile appeared strange- something that wasn't uncommon for her. Before she left to return to Spike, she moved once more towards her grandprogeny. Just as Elizabeth turned towards Maurizio, Drusilla stepped down on the hem of her train. Elizabeth gasped as she stumbled forward and tried to catch herself and regain her footing. Without her noticing, Drusilla quickly returned to her lover's arms. She covered her mouth with her gloved hands as she giggled, having witnessed Elizabeth recovering from her little mishap. Spike glanced to Drusilla and questioned her again, wondering if that indeed had been an accident or purposely incurred.

Quickly stepping forward, Maurizio offered his hand to Elizabeth and helped to steady her on her feet, "Are you all right?" he asked, concerned that she might have hurt her ankle.

Once she had regained her footing, Elizabeth smiled gratefully and nodded, "Yes, thank you. I am afraid I've made myself look clumsy," she said with a slightly nervous laugh, an attempt to shake off the slight pain in her ankle. Trying not to dwell on how she fell, Elizabeth focused on the dance and tried to enjoy herself. But in the back of her mind, she wished it was over and that she could return home for the night.

Though there was a small hiccup, they had managed to continue with the dance in time with the music. To the other dancers there, it might not have occurred to them that Drusilla would have purposefully meant harm to Elizabeth, as they believed them to be friends; from their perspectives, it had purely been an accident. Angelus, on the other hand, having been quiet and astute to all that had been happening around him, was taking these details into consideration, yet remained quiet and composed. With the shift in music, it required each pair of girls to hold hands and turn in a circle. To the vampire's convenience, Drusilla was paired with Elizabeth. Although Elizabeth loved the woman dearly, the thought of dancing or being near Drusilla at that moment made her quite nervous, especially after Drusilla's behaviour towards her that night. Elizabeth was now certain that she had even tried to trip her.

Drusilla smiled at her grandprogeny. As they stepped around in their circle, Drusilla stared into her eyes, a look that was returned with a kind smile from Elizabeth. She seemed a bit kinder, which provided the younger woman some relief. As they returned to their home position, they would take the next step to drift to their partners, but instead, Drusilla held fast to Elizabeth's hands with a vice-like grip. Elizabeth's momentary sense of relief was swiftly broken as Drusilla swung her outward onto the dance floor like a ragdoll. There was no helpful hand to brace Elizabeth this time; any attempts to catch herself were in vain when her ankle twisted as she fell to the floor. There was a hush of silence and small gasps as the girl seemingly tripped, onlookers having not witnessed Drusilla's hand in all of it. Any questions for her welfare were drowned out to her as Elizabeth calmly pulled herself up on the hand of a stranger, her face just as it was when her sire told her the painful truth about what she thought was their friendship. Drusilla watched from where she stood as her junior scrambled to feet; she was pleased with this outcome. Now standing with a pained ankle, Elizabeth quietly limped away from the floor and made good on her initial word.

Maddelena quickly stepped forward, "Is she all right?" she called out, her face a mask of concern.

Maurizio put a hand out, "I'll see that she is tended to," he replied. Quick to react, he followed after his dance partner. The other patrons were left staring; dancing had turned to idle standing and whispers were in lieu of the orchestra. Finding a chair, Elizabeth sat down and cast her eyes down.

Pierre gave his hands a couple claps before announcing to his guests, "Now, now, there is nothing to be concerned about. We shall resume with this dance," he gestured at the conductor and music soon began to fill the tense atmosphere once more. Had they not witnessed Elizabeth succumbing to incident twice in the care of Drusilla's hands, they would have not noticed anything unusual. But to have it happen in such a quick succession was more than likely a coincidence and highly suspicious.

Maddelena stepped across to her cousin and linked arms with her, "Let us part the dance floor; we are obstructing the other guests," she said, affording a quick and nervous glance at Drusilla as they passed.

Pierre looked to his three remaining guests, "Unfortunate the quadrille ended prematurely as it did, but my wife will see that she is looked after and cared for," he said reassuringly.

"I'll have a doctor come by tomorrow to have her looked at," Angelus nodded. Meanwhile, Drusilla had taken to muttering incoherent things under her breath, only to cover her mouth as she giggled at some unknowing joke. Pierre cleared his throat, obviously disturbed by her display of madness, but made no remark.

"Shall we… retire to the parlour for refreshments?" Pierre suggested.

"Please," Angelus smiled and nodded as he followed the other out. Drusilla tugged on Spike's arm to come along with her as she pursued her sire.

┼†‡

Finding Elizabeth seated by the wall, Maurizio knelt by her side as she alleviated the weight off her injured foot, "Are you in much pain, Elizabeth? Shall I fetch the carriage to send you back home?" he inquired, not liking how his guest was hurt under his care.

Elizabeth winced when she moved her foot, but tried her best to smile, "I… would appreciate that, Monsieur di Bazza, if it is of no trouble to you," she said kindly, not wanting to inconvenience such a kind host. What had started out as a pleasant evening became almost too humiliating for her to handle. Whether or not it was discourteous for her to leave so soon was a question she kept to herself. The little fear she had for being alone in a large house seemed of no consequence at the moment.

"'Tis not an inconvenience at all," Maurizio said to her with a kind smile, giving her hand a reassuring pat. "I shan't be more than two minutes," he said as he rose, excusing himself.

┼†‡

As this was taking place, a small number of Pierre's social group had taken to idle chitchat in the parlour. Among one of the members was Clotaire. The men were laughing as Pierre approached with more guests.

"Do not stop on my account," he said to them amicably, all spoken in his mother tongue. Spike glanced warily at the other four men standing there, feeling a sense of familiarity to this scenario, whatever language or setting it may have been in. The men continued to speak in French before Pierre turned back to his guests to speak in English, "Pardon our rudeness, we were just discussing some banalities of business."

"Not at all," Angelus replied, "as an entrepreneur myself, I understand the hardships of being duty-bound. Scarcely a moment of rest, even when one is host to entertain guests," he smiled charmingly and gave a small wink to Pierre.

"Words that speak true to every man's mind, has he not?" Pierre looked to his other friends as they all took to chuckling. Spike rolled his eyes and gave a small sigh, feeling very out of place in their circle. "A bottle of red wine is in order," Pierre raised his arm and gestured at one of the servants from across the room. Angelus quietly observed his surroundings as he waited when he caught sight of Maurizio walk past the doorframe towards the main hall.

Turning to Drusillla, he bent his head to the side of her ear, "Be a dear and see to it how our friends are faring," he said in a lowered voice. She glanced up at him. As their eyes connected in that brief moment of silence, it was as though they were communicating without the use of words altogether.

"Of course," she smiled sweetly. Spike glanced to Angelus, detecting a familiar tone to his voice. "Excuse me, good sirs," Drusilla smiled brightly to the men before giving a small curtsy, a rare moment for her to facilitate civilities, albeit short. The men nodded to her as she left the circle with Spike as her escort. Spike felt much tension alleviated in that moment.

┼†‡

Before Maurizio had returned to Elizabeth, Maddelena had come to take a seat next to her. "My dear, Elizabeth, I can only speculate the pain and burden of humiliation you must be facing right now," she reached over to squeeze her hand, her eyebrows turned upward in sympathy. Lowering her voice, she inclined her head towards her friend, "I do not wish to upset you, as she is a person you wholly consider as a devout friend, but," she paused to glance about the room, wary that someone might be listening, "I believe, with an undeniable conviction, that Drusilla had meant to harm you. Emeline and I discussed this in private, and she also firmly believes this; it was clear her actions were intentional. I feel ill at ease knowing she is a companion of yours and that you'll be spending the rest of your travelling days together. If the opportunity presents itself, try to distance yourself from her as much as possible," Maddelena suggested, worried for her friend's well-being.

Elizabeth smiled weakly at her, "I do not know why she would do such a thing. I do not know what I have done to her," she said softly and with much confusion apparent in her voice and expression.

"Truthfully, Angelus appears to be the only trustworthy one. You'll be in safe hands with him," Maddelena nodded, believing wholeheartedly that what she spoke was true. "As for… William, was it? Though we have not yet exchanged words, there is also something about him that unsettles me. Considering he is Drusilla's lover, I would not be surprised if he shared the same inclinations."

"Maddelena," Maurizio returned to find his friend with his guest. "The carriage is ready, Elizabeth," he said, looking to her. Maddelena gave an understanding nod as it was clear what was happening.

"Please take my words into consideration, my dear," she clasped hands with Elizabeth once more, then leaned forward to give her parting kisses on the cheek.

"Do send Pierre my regards and thanks," Maurizio said to his friend as he helped Elizabeth to her feet. Maddelena nodded and watched as the two of them left her home.

"Thank you, Monsieur di Bazza, but you do not have to go back with me because of my… clumsiness. I do not want to spoil your night," Elizabeth said as she tried to cling to her stoic and goodnatured face.

Helping to alleviate much of her weight off her foot, Maurizio walked slowly so as not to agitate her twisted ankle any further, "Do not think you are such a burden to me that I would abandon you," he assured her. "But, I do think it is best that I retire for the evening. I do have some paperwork to attend to," he said as he helped her into the awaiting carriage.

┼†‡

Meanwhile, inside the still lively mansion, Spike returned to the circle of men, much to his displeasure.

"Ah, you've returned, William. Where is Drusilla?" Angelus inquired, glancing to him with a lit cigarette between his fingers.

"She was feeling a bit peckish. Said she'd return shortly," was his reply, not liking having his other half not present with him.

Pierre smiled to his guest politely, "Care for a cigarette?" he offered an open small metallic case revealing a neat row of rolled up tobacco.

"No, thanks," Spike glanced to the item in hand, a tiny grimace to his lips, "I don't smoke."

"William is not one to take much risk," Angelus laughed, giving his friend a hard smack on the back of the shoulder. The other men laughed as they puffed merrily on their own cigarettes, the smoke wafting up in front of their faces, white and thick. Spike felt some annoyance brew within him, and in that instance, stepped forward to pick up a cigarette before Pierre could snap the case shut.

"I live for danger," he stated simply. Pierre gave a small laugh at that, closing his case then to flag down one of his man servants to help bring a light. Spike brought the small item between his lips, only to flinch slightly as a flame was suddenly lit in front of his eyes. He dipped his head forward as the end of the cigarette burned. Taking his first drag, he immediately took to coughing, a reaction that caused the men there to erupt into louder laughter.

"It does take some getting used to," Pierre said, looking to the gagging male with much amusement. Spike coughed into a closed fist until the smoke had left his lungs. His growing annoyance only turned into anger as he felt the scrutiny of the men there looking down on him. Continuing where their conversations had left off, the men spoke rapidly in French. With the already limited French that Spike knew, he could scarcely catch a word that was being exchanged. Angelus made an interjection as there appeared to be a fully immersed conversation taking place. This was completely lost to Spike. His eyes flickered between each of them, quiet and confused, till one of the men said something, then looked to him as though he expected him to respond.

Spike glanced around to each one in surprise, then back to the man in question, "Beg pardon?" he asked, holding his burning cigarette between his fingers, having not yet taken his second inhalation.

"We must be speaking too fast. Would you prefer us to speak in English?" the man suggested, a note of condescension in his tone.

" _Please_ ," Spike replied, his own tone stressed. Learning what the conversation was about though, didn't help the vampire much in his state of boredom. Politics, the economy, and business matters were of subject. Spike reconsidered his suggestion of having them speak in a language he understood. Standing idly, he made no attempts in conversing and instead found more interest on puffing on his cigarette on occasion. The urge to cough lessened each time.

┼†‡

Getting into the carriage Elizabeth gave out a quiet hiss of pain as she got settled into her seat. As she watched the chateau disappear from view, she could not help but wonder what she did to deserve what had happened to her that night, how a woman she loved and trusted came to treat her with a demeanour so sour.

Maurizio helped Elizabeth up the stairs when they had returned to his manor, "I'll have a couple of maids sent to your room at your beck and call," he said to her. "It's dreadfully late, but I can try sending for my personal doctor to see if he would be able to commute at this hour. If not, I'll have him sent first thing in the morning," he nodded with conviction.

┼†‡

At the party, Spike had managed to drift away from Angelus' social circle, finding a means to fill his time as he waited for Drusilla to return. The party was starting to wind down, as it was made evident with the remaining stray dancers. He managed to pick off a random girl, leading her away from the grounds so he could make a game of it as he chased her. It was a momentary thrill, but it helped to keep his boredom at bay. Returning to the chateau, he had yet to see Drusilla turn up.

┼†‡

Elizabeth had managed to make her way to the library. Settled in the familiar corner at the window, she tried to calm her nerves with a cup of tea, and forget that night's events with a good book. Reading 'The Raven' from her Poe collection, she kept to herself as steam wafted from her cup that sat on the little table next to her.

Maurizio had retired to his office and did not return to his young guest to report whether a doctor was coming or not. Considering the hour, it was assumed one would not be visiting that evening.

A couple hours later, a familiar presence entered the library to find Elizabeth in the spot she had made her second home.

"Elizabeth, my dear," Angelus trod lightly towards her, almost appearing as though he were gliding in that dim light, "I had a feeling I would find you here," he smiled to her in kind. "How fares your foot?" he glanced down at it with a slight depression of his brows, inquisitive and marred with worry.

Looking up from her book, Elizabeth smiled with a sigh, then looked down at her slippers, "It is quite painful to move, but I do not think it's broken," she said with a tone that tried to feign pleasantness with a small smile.

Angelus nodded to the area across from where she sat before seating himself, "May I…?" he gestured to her injured foot with a sweeping hand, a civil request that he might examine the extent of her injury. With the same little smile, Elizabeth nodded, hoping that her ankle did not hurt as much since she had been resting it.

Angelus chuckled, "You'll know when you've broken a bone," he took extra care to handle her leg as he gently propped it up against his lap, "I've had far too many to count," he smiled at her. Glancing down at her foot, he removed her slipper to help him examine her injury more thoroughly, and only allowed his fingertips to graze around the bruised and swollen area. Elizabeth let out a small gasp of pain, even at his gentle touch. "The colour is ill-fitting for such a dainty foot," he said, lifting his eyes to hers. "Funny how we still succumb to injury, don't you t'ink?" Elizabeth nodded in agreement as she looked back at him, finding that odd, even though they were now immortal. "But this should help," reaching into his coat, he pulled out a sealed glass flask. "I thought to bring you some blood. Seeing as the state you're in, it would be difficult for you to go out on your own," he said as he presented it to her. "Better to drink it soon whilst it's still warm."

With curious eyes, Elizabeth slowly took the flask from him, "Thank you," she said softly. As she drank, a fleeting thought crossed her mind as to where and how he had filled it. She handed it back to him after she had finished and looked to her tea, trying to uphold the facade that she had been losing her grip on all night as she hid the hurt and slight feeling of betrayal.

"Though the pain is a nuisance now, it'll be but a memory within a couple days time," Angelus nodded to her. Pausing to observe her face, he spoke to her in a more gentle tone, "Did you… enjoy yourself tonight? Before… all this…," he said delicately.

Elizabeth nodded with a bittersweet smile, "Yes, I did. I thought I would be too afraid to talk to anyone, but I made some new acquaintances," she said as a little colour came to her cheeks, "danced…."

"Maddelena appears to have taken a liking to you," Angelus agreed. "Perhaps you could have tea socials with her," he suggested.

Elizabeth sighed as her smile and blush faded away, "But then… I do not know what I have done to them," her voice growing sadder. It was obvious that without even mention of their names, she was speaking of Spike and Drusilla.

"Ah, yes," Angelus gave a small sigh at the downturn of her mood and voice. "The pair are in dire need of a lesson in tact. I cannot presume the motives of Drusilla's actions, save for her state of mind, but even so, there has always been a semblance of reason behind them. Give her time; perhaps it was just somet'ing in passing," he suggested, brushing a comforting hand against the side of her leg. At this, Elizabeth felt more at ease at his touch. As she felt a little colour return to her cheeks, she slightly pulled her leg away, only to hiss in pain. Angelus sighed once more as he averted his eyes outward to the dark room, "I only wish we had more than just that one dance. If I had known the night would end like this, I'd have kept you to myself. Maybe you wouldn't be in this state then, or maybe you'd fall victim to injury with all our dancing," he teased, giving her a small smile.

Elizabeth met his smile with a shyer one while absentmindedly running her teeth over her bottom lip. Realising her nervous habit, she quickly looked away.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" he asked, removing his hand from her leg. He peered at her curiously, watching as she shyly kept her eyes averted from his gaze.

"Not at all; it is just my ankle," she said softly as she looked down at her lap. "Thank you… for checking in on me," she said softly in the same shy tone.

"Lizzy, you are my main priority," he said to her in all sincerity. This time, it was he that turned his head away, almost timidly, "Would it… be so strange if I asked another favour of you?" he spoke gently, tentatively, before bringing his gaze back to hers. "One last dance for the night," he flashed a small smile filled with hope. Elizabeth smiled weakly as she was about to decline his request. "I promise you, it won't hurt you at all," he said, coming to his feet. He stood, bending at his waist as he offered her his hand to take, just as he had with their first dance on the ballroom floor, but this time, they were within the comforts of their own solitude, away from strangers' eyes. They could dance however they wished and do whatever they pleased without the judgement of others. In the light of the candles, the library became as beautiful as any ballroom; it was the perfect sanctuary.

Curiously tilting her head, Elizabeth's cheeks reddened a little more as she took his hand and stood on shaky legs. Angelus beamed a smile at her as he helped her. As he stood across from her, he made it much more intimate with the shortened distance between them. Placing his hands on her waist, he lifted her up high enough so that her feet did not touch the floor. Elizabeth gasped in surprise.

"How is this?" he asked, giving her a sheepish smile.

"B-better," she said timidly as she placed her hands onto his shoulders. He began to move his feet in tune to a silent melody, by the flickering light of the candles, and the dim moonlight that managed to shine through the windowpanes.

"Perhaps… we need something to dance to," he smiled at her. "I… cannot sing. But, would you?" he asked her, his smile growing wider. At his request, Elizabeth paused in thought before she began to sing a wordless tune, a melody that she had heard at the party. Her voice was soft and clear in the silence of the dark room. Now dancing to the orchestra of Elizabeth's singing, Angelus kept his focus on her face, and a gentle smile on his lips. It was a foreign thing for her, to be held so close to someone, and a male no less in dance. As Elizabeth sang softly, her eyes shyly drifted to and from his gaze as he moved to the tune she sang for them. After some time had passed, and when her singing had stopped, Angelus stood in place and looked to her for a long moment, but had not yet placed her down.

With blushing cheeks, the shy girl took in an unneeded breath in order to speak, "An-Angelus?" her tone a little above a whisper, thinking he had simply forgotten to put her down.

He continued to stare at her for a moment longer, then blinked, "I… I apologise for that, Elizabeth, but," he looked back into her eyes, "I cannot help but want to do one more thing," his dark eyes bore into hers, searching, imploring. Elizabeth found it difficult to break away from his gaze as her eyes were drawn to his. The silence after the last inflection of his words was almost deafening; it augmented the softest wisp of sound, that even the flickering flames of the candlelight sounded like the roar of a crackling fire.

Having no other choice but to hold onto his shoulders, Elizabeth gave him a kind little smile at his apology, "And what is that?" she asked in the same whisper of a voice.

"I wish to kiss you," he said, finally breaking the stillness of the room. Elizabeth's brows rose and her eyes widened. No one had ever asked such a thing from her, especially no one like him- a mentor and a dear friend- and a handsome one at that.

Looking down, she nervously ran her teeth over her bottom lip as her eyes swept up to meet his, "You… wish to kiss me?" she asked, timid as a church mouse, as if to make sure she had heard him correctly.

"I do," he smiled at her, watching as she cast her eyes downward once more.

"No… no one has," she revealed. She was so nervous that she did not even notice that she had slightly bunched his shirt in her hands.

"I'd feel more than honoured if I were the first. Would you grant me that…?" his voice lingered and trailed off as he grew quieter, and his hands pulled her body closer towards him. He inclined his head, letting his forehead make contact against hers first, then gently nuzzled her nose with his before turning his head at an angle. Elizabeth watched this happen with trembling hands as she remained frozen in the current position she was in. With his lips a mere inch from hers, he seemed to momentarily pause there as he cast his eyes over to observe her face. Confident with her reactions, Angelus brushed his lips against hers and kissed her. Elizabeth's thoughts of what to do or say were immediately halted as she let out an unprovoked whimper and her eyes slowly closed. Slightly tightening the grip on her waist, Angelus pulled her in closer and lifted her just a bit higher so that he could better press his lips against hers. After what had only been a few seconds, he raised his head and glanced down at her before slowly settling her back onto the floor. "It… is getting late," he whispered. Feeling the floor beneath her feet, Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him with a tiny smile. Angelus watched her face closely, "Let me help you upstairs," his words not a suggestion, but more of a statement. Elizabeth nodded and gently braced herself on his arms. Not managing more than two awkward steps forward, Elizabeth was scooped up into his arms once more as she yelped in surprise. This was soon followed with a giggle as he carried her the rest of the way without a word of heeding. Elizabeth had her hands wrapped firm around the back of his neck and timidly rested her head against his shoulder. Entering her room, Angelus gently laid her on her bed before giving her another kiss on the forehead. "I wish you the sweetest of dreams, dear Lizzy," he said with a warm smile. Slipping out, he stole softly into the night.

What had been a horrible evening for Elizabeth, had turned out to be one that she would not soon forget. Closing her eyes, she began to fall asleep with a smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Italian Translations**  
>  _Caro -_ Dear


	28. Day 32: They Flee from Me

There came a light rapping at Elizabeth's door.

"Elizabeth, I've called for my doctor to come see about your injury," Maurizio called out.

With a yawn, Elizabeth sat up in bed. It was morning, a time that should have been spent with drawn curtains and much needed rest, especially since her late night, but the young vampire wanted little to do with wasting her hours tucked under covers. With a growing smile, she carefully swung her legs over the edge of the mattress as she thought back on the last hours after the party. A wave of warmth swept over her face and a healthy glow touched her cheeks as the memory of Angelus played in her mind. And the kiss….

With a small giggle, she shrugged into her floral peignoir before settling down into an armchair, "Please, come in," she answered.

The door tentatively swung open. Seeing Elizabeth seated comfortably, Maurizio widened the door to allow the doctor and himself through.

"Good morning," she beamed a smile at the men, a look from a young woman that did not seem at all in pain.

The doctor appeared to be a man in his late forties, hair peppered with silver strands and thinning, where an apparent shiny bald patch had managed to peek through his once luscious hair.

"Good morning, Mademoiselle Elizabeth. Let's see about that injury, shall we?" the doctor knelt by her chair and opened a leather briefcase in case he needed anything else to aid her malady. Taking her foot into his hands- reminiscent of what Angelus had done the other night, albeit with less care, and far less with a sensual touch- he turned it ever so slightly with deft fingers. "No apparent swelling," he squinted his eyes as he peered at it. "Nothing appears to be broken," he continued as he massaged his fingers around the area. "Does this at all hurt?" he glanced up at her as he applied some small pressure close to her ankle. Elizabeth shook her head in response. "I must say, from the way Monsieur di Bazza described it, you'd be hobbling around in crutches for weeks and bedridden for days. But here you are, with nothing more than a dark bruise. A handsome bruise, but nothing surprising that would result from the fall that you took, Mademoiselle," he smiled at her as he rose from his stoop.

Elizabeth relaxed at the news and smiled in relief, "I suppose it was nothing but a nasty twist then, thank heavens." Maurizio had been watching him closely from behind his shoulder the entire time.

"That… that is all?" Maurizio inquired with wide eyes, surprised that the doctor had already appeared to give his diagnosis after a short five minutes.

"That is all," the doctor looked to Elizabeth, the one who had succumbed to injury and appeared at peace and calm, then to the man, one who was in perfect health, but should have been the one seated in his state of agitation.

"But… but surely there is more for you to do," Maurizio scrambled for his words.

The doctor sighed softly, scratching a finger at his temple as he thought of what to say to appease his client, "Some rest will do. Her bruise will heal over time- on its own."

"Ah, yes, of course," Maurizio nodded. "I'll see that a maid shows you out. Thank you, doctor," he walked him to Elizabeth's bedroom door, then returned to her. "How… are you feeling?" he asked, his voice a little lowered as he looked to her with worry in his eyes.

"Much better, Monsieur di Bazza. Thank you for your concern," she said as she stood from her chair. "Really, I am just a little sore is all. I think I will just keep to the library today." She slowly walked towards the door to show her host out.

The Frenchman's eyes widened in surprise at her gesture and he blinked at her with some bewilderment, "Oh, um, y-yes… but, of course…," he stuttered, as though something were lingering on his mind. After Elizabeth shut her door to properly get dressed, there was the sound of some shuffling outside in the hallway, the sound of someone seemingly unsure as to whether knock or leave. Within a few minutes of passing, the footsteps decidedly left for certain.

┼†‡

Elizabeth headed to the library with a slight spring in her step akin to girlish glee. She hummed to herself as she slowly walked in front of a select shelf of volumes, the same tune that she and Angelus had danced to the night before in private. A dreamlike look overcame her eyes as she pulled a few choice books and tucked them into the crook of her arm. Other than the sound of her own voice, the library was as quiet as a tomb, something she very much preferred.

Another entered the library with light step.

"Miss Edith, how is she to know you are to find her?" came Drusilla's frail and girlish voice. She paused as she listened to her silent doll speak, "Close, you say?" she whispered. "Yes…," she closed her eyes and smiled, "I can feel her." Looking around the towering stacks, the female clutched at her doll, pressing it tight against her chest. Finally, she jumped out in front of the alcove where Elizabeth was situated, "We've found you!" she cried, her smile wide and full of glee.

Elizabeth jolted in her spot before spinning around, "Drusilla!" she cried. Adjusting the books in her arms, she hugged them close, almost protectively, "You gave me a fright for a moment, grandmother," she let out a little laugh as she relaxed. She'd been lost in her thoughts for good reason, and admittedly, had hoped that the visitor had been Angelus instead. "I was just about to sit down for some reading and tea. Would… you like to join me?" she asked with caution, wondering if the older woman was still cross with her.

"Oh, yes, we would love to," Drusilla smiled brightly. She moved forward and hooked her arm around Elizabeth's, "We missed last night's bedtime story. I do hope you will read more than one story to us, granddaughter," she walked leisurely with Elizabeth on her arm, as though her vindictive display the night before had never occurred. Elizabeth found it odd, but did not question it, especially since Drusilla was in better spirits.

Settling down at a small table, Drusilla seated herself adjacent to Elizabeth and wedged her tiny porcelain China doll between them on the tabletop. With elbows propped up, Drusilla watched Elizabeth read with large, attentive eyes as she nestled her chin against her entwined fingers. In her wonderment, she lolled her head from side to side every now and then. After several minutes of silence, Drusilla rolled to her side, splaying one outstretched arm across the wood surface as she rested the side of her face against the cool grain.

She giggled, "You've got a secret you're not telling," she said in a sing-song voice as she stared up at the younger female. Elizabeth stopped from her reading to look back at her, a look of slight perplexion and surprise on her face. "I can tell- there's sunshine spouting out from your hair," Drusilla twirled a finger in the air at Elizabeth. She brought her other arm next to her head and began to scratch at the polished tabletop, "Must be a good one, I reckon," she presumed, her eyes focused at her task, but her smile broadening. Suddenly sitting upright, she leaned forward towards Elizabeth, her eyes searching into hers as she continued her pursuit, "Tell me what it is, granddaughter. Tell grandmummy what makes you smile and sing." Elizabeth smiled with a blush to her cheeks, but was afraid to tell her for fear of her vindictiveness and jealousy returning.

"I… had a dream… of a man," she confessed after a moment of deliberation. "Strong and tall, smart… and gentle," she blushed as memories of the night before danced in her mind. Though the reality of what she said was untrue, what had happened to her had felt like nothing more than a sweet dream, even though it had very much been real.

"Ohhh… a tall and handsome dark prince," Drusilla cooed as her eyes wandered over the youth's head and her fingers ran over her soft hair. Elizabeth cast her eyes down as she giggled with giddy delight "Must have done something special to cause such a blush upon your cheeks," Drusilla smiled at her. She lowered her eyes, "A touch… soft as flower petals…," she said, her gaze searching for the right words for the foresight that came to her. Suddenly, Drusilla looked back up into Elizabeth's eyes and a slow smile spread across her face, "A kiss. So real…," her fingers grazed along her grandprogeny's cheek, "you could feel it," she ran her thumb ever so lightly over Elizabeth's bottom lip. Elizabeth's cheeks burned as she looked back at her grandsire. Unable to hide her growing smile, she timidly nodded as she averted her eyes downward once more. "Scarlet like red rose petals," Drusilla giggled, holding the younger female's face within her hands, "I can almost feel you burning," she whispered, rubbing at her blushing cheeks with her thumbs.

"Enough to light a fire?" Angelus walked in with a good humoured smile on his lips. Releasing her hold, Drusilla spun around and beamed at him. Elizabeth turned to face him and smiled kindly. "You two girls getting along now, precious?" Angelus said to Drusilla, stealing a glance over her head as he gave Elizabeth a secretive smile.

"Like peas and carrots," she replied, picking up her doll and cradling it in her arms. Angelus languidly laced his fingers behind his back, giving a small hum as he observed the difference in Drusilla's drastic change in mood.

"What would you two prefer to do for the day?" he asked, now and again stealing glances at his protege.

Drusilla entwined her arm around Elizabeth's, "Oh, could we find a companion for Miss Edith? I find her wallowing in tears because she's so lonesome," she pouted. "I can only do so much to appease her with cakes and tea, but she's starting to step out of turn and throw tantrums," she said as she glanced to her granddaughter.

Angelus looked to Elizabeth and smiled, "What do you say? Shall we explore the shops of Nice?"

"Yes!" Drusilla immediately answered for them both, moving fast as she clasped her free hand around Angelus' left arm. With his other arm, Angelus offered it to Elizabeth as he continued to smile at her.

Elizabeth stood and followed behind in Drusilla's footsteps, "That would be lovely. I have not done much exploring since we arrived," she said as she took his arm. Turning to smile at each woman, Angelus slowly escorted them forward and out of the library.

┼†‡

Drusilla trotted upstairs to her room to fetch her cloak and accidentally woke Spike with the noise she was making.

"Where are you heading off to at this time of day?" he mumbled at her, turning to see her dance across their room as she hummed the tune of the waltz Angelus and Elizabeth had shared.

"Off to find Miss Edith a playmate," she replied happily.

Spike turned back around and rested his head on the pillow with closed eyes, "Oh," he replied.

"Would you like to join us? We're all going."

Spike's eyes opened at that, "'We'?" He turned back around to glance at her, "Who's 'we'?" he asked, as though he needed for her to say it.

"Daddy and granddaughter," she replied simply, tying the cloak snugly below her chin. Spike pulled a face and lowered his eyes to the sheets, not liking the idea of being abandoned to have his lover and progeny in the hands of Angelus alone.

"Fine," he grumbled, throwing the sheets aside as he stood to pull on some clothes.

"We shall have a grand time, love," Drusilla said, tucking her hair within the confines of her hood, "going about and seeing roaming cattle during the day shall lift your spirits." Spike gave a small sigh but said nothing, still feeling a little snubbed that his lover hadn't returned to him last night as she had promised.

After a quick minute, the two descended the stairs at each other's arms. Miss Edith was affixed at Drusilla's hip, and Spike was holding Drusilla's black parasol. Dressed in a day coat and top hat, Angelus stood waiting by the vestibule door with Elizabeth. He glanced up to see not only his adopted daughter as she glided down the steps, but also his volatile grandson.

"Joining us, are we, William?"

"Better than staying with all these French maids poking around and gossiping about," Spike said dryly, letting a small sigh escape his lips.

Angelus escorted Elizabeth out the door, and with a gloved hand, lifted a large umbrella above their heads till they were safely inside the carriage.

┼†‡

Being driven into town, they eventually found themselves in an area where the streets were lined with unique shops and boutiques.

"'Tis different at this time of day," Drusilla said in wonder, her eyes wide as she peered out the window, taking in the different sights and colours. Elizabeth smiled brightly as she glanced outside. This was the first time in weeks since she had seen sunlight.

"Here appears to be good enough," Angelus noted after the driver had stopped. Being mindful to keep to the shadows and veiled underneath the umbrella, he walked with an amiable gait with Elizabeth in tow.

Drusilla giggled as she pushed ahead. Glancing at a wealthy woman in passing, she growled and snapped at the small dog she held within her arms. Startled and confused, the woman only pulled her pet closer to her chest as the dog began to incessantly yap. Spike chuckled along with Drusilla, finding humour in her childish ways as the distance grew between them and Angelus and Elizabeth.

"I cannot help but think about t'at kiss we shared last night," Angelus said softly as he stared ahead.

Elizabeth felt her cheeks begin to burn. She glanced into shop windows they passed, "I thought of that as well…," she reserved the same bashful smile from the night before.

"With the short time we've spent together, I feel like I've learned so much about you," he continued, his eyes wandering to the ground before sweeping them up to look at her. Elizabeth turned at that moment, and Angelus found his gaze settle into her eyes. "It may be inappropriate, considering the role I have, being your mentor, but…," he drew in a small breath, "I cannot control these growing feelings I have for you," he admitted.

"Angelus…," she said in a soft and timid whisper, "I… am not sure what to say…." Being the youngest of the four, there were many things she still did not know and had yet to experience. Having one confess their growing affections for her was one of them.

"You needn't say anythin'," Angelus smiled. "I don't wish to force you to say anythin' t'at you don't feel comfortable with, but…," he gently caressed the top of her hand that was wrapped around his arm, "I hold onto this hope that I might one day hear you say t'at you share the same sentiments. For now, I am happy with your company."

"Oy!" came Spike's voice, forcing the whispering pair to break out of their romantic haze. "Dru wants your opinion, Liz," he announced a couple shops away from where they presently were. Angelus sighed as they neared him. "What's taking you two so long?" Spike gave them a suspicious look as he waited by the open door.

"Things don't always need to be rushed, William," Angelus allowed Elizabeth to enter first before closing the umbrella. "Learning to take things slowly might help you in more ways than one," he said as he stepped past him. The shopkeeper smiled and nodded to them as they entered.

Spike's gaze followed Angelus into the boutique before a sudden flush came to his cheeks. "Did Dru tell you? T-that only happened that one time!" he cried defensively, ambling in after them.

┼†‡

Elizabeth paid no mind to the men's conversation. Entirely enchanted with the store, she walked forward as she glanced around her surroundings. Drusilla was by a shelf of dolls as she approached her.

"Look at this one," Elizabeth said as she stood by Drusilla's side, "it looks like you." She gently lifted up a little doll with raven hair and wide set eyes that seemed to follow one's movement.

Drusilla turned to the doll and bowed to its level, "They've shrunk me, like a wool sweater," she peered at it closely. "What do you say, Miss Edith?" she looked at her own doll in hand, holding it up closely to the other so that it might 'observe' it. Drusilla paused momentarily as though to listen to it speak. "How could you mistake her for me? She is wearing pink ribbons in her hair. Mine are blue," she twirled a finger in her curls, having affixed a couple of the ribbons that Elizabeth had given her; a satisfied and smug smile appeared on her lips as she lifted her chin. After a brief moment, Drusilla jut her bottom lip out and walked forward, not looking very pleased, "Miss Edith does not like being confused. She says she's getting heart palpitations in her state of vexation," she glanced glumly to the other rows of miniature dolls perched upon the showcases.

┼†‡

The shopkeeper watched the pair of girls from afar, obviously disturbed by the way the darker haired one was speaking to her doll, but was now distracted when the lesser kempt male was handling one himself. He walked over to him as Spike had one of the dolls turned over and was lifting it up its dress.

" _Excusez-moi, Monsieur!_ " catching him at his indecent act, the shopkeeper yanked the doll from his hands, appalled he would do such a thing, even to an inanimate doll.

Spike glanced up at him, not at all fazed by his gesture, "I wasn't going to drop the thing, old man." The shopkeeper prattled off in French, but Spike only tuned it out and sighed, turning around as he ignored his words.

"Even to a doll, William?" Angelus stepped up beside him.

Spike glanced to him, then back to the girls in the near distance, "Was curious is all. There's so much care to the painted face, I thought if they'd might add those types of details… elsewhere," he gave a small shrug.

"Depraved and perverted," Angelus chuckled, walking away from him.

"It's not even a real girl," Spike scoffed.

"…Says the shopkeeper," Angelus finished, moving towards the females. "Have you found anything yet, Dru?" Angelus asked, coming up behind them.

"No," she frowned with a slight upturn of her brows, "they refuse to speak to me," she huffed.

"How about this pretty blonde one, pet?" Spike suggested, picking up said doll.

"She croaks like a frog," she grumbled, looking at the thing in his hands with dismay.

Spike nodded at this, as though her explanation were sound, "Right, of course," he said quietly, replacing it back on the shelf. "What about this one with the white bonnet? It's got a lovely floral patt-"

"No, she's ill tempered and unreasonable. She'd never get along with Miss Edith," Drusilla interrupted.

A clear sign of annoyance flickered across Spike's face as he let out a low sigh, "Just trying to help with your selection, _love_ ," he stated, obviously trying to keep his own temper in check. A line of worry touched Elizabeth's brow as she glanced between the pair, being concerned for both her grandsire's distress and her sire's diminishing patience and growing temper. Drusilla paid him no mind and pulled Elizabeth along with her as she scrutinised the next row of dolls.

"You've only been dealing with this for a couple months. Imagine having to wake up to the likes of this for the past two decades," Angelus said to Spike, his voice lowered.

Spike exhaled and gave a small shake of his head as he looked to his friend with both appreciation and awe, "I admire your patience, Angelus. It's commendable."

"Add to t'at another hundred years or so with Darla, and you've got yourself a bloody party."

"Bloody hell, mate," Spike breathed, his appreciation only growing stronger.

"Siring you was one of the better choices our dear Dru has made," Angelus faced his junior. Spike could not help but soften at that admission. His blue eyes looked to his sire, lacking the look of contempt and malice usually reserved for him. "You bring about a nice balance with your male energy amongst squabbling hens," the eldest continued, a compliment that did not go unnoticed.

Spike could not help but smile, giving a small bashful chuckle, "I admit, at times I thought-" he paused before he ended up saying something insulting, then started over. "You said we were going to be the best of friends," Spike began.

"We _are_ the best of friends," Angelus corrected, giving him a hard and reassuring pat on the shoulder and a devilish smile. Quietly looking to his friend, Spike felt like he was finally receiving some much needed validation he sought from his sire and mentor. All the insults, death threats, lessons, and sleeping with his lover, seemed to have melted away in that instant, all appearing but a distant echo in the younger vampire's mind.

A subtle shift took over the boutique's environment as the sound of the shop bell jingled, pulling them from their male bonding, and alerting them of another patron entering. The shopkeeper smiled and greeted her warmly from behind the counter, recognising her to be a returning customer. Venturing farther in, her footsteps suddenly halted, causing the two males to peer up at her.

"Angelus!" Maddelena cried, her teeth peeking past her grinning lips.

"Lady Maddelena," Angelus smiled in return.

"This is such a lovely coincidence!" she laughed, pausing briefly to give him kisses upon each cheek. "Lovely to see you again," she smiled and nodded quaintly in Spike's direction before turning back to Angelus. Spike gave a curt nod of acknowledgement, only to sigh and roll his eyes when it was obvious her attention was only preoccupied with the other male. "What brings you here?" she inquired, staring up at him dreamily, a healthy flush growing steadily across the apples of her cheeks.

"Drusilla is picking out a doll," he replied, "we are just here to accompany her."

"I do not see a need for two escorts," the woman giggled. "Does that mean… Elizabeth, is she here as well?"

"She is," Angelus smiled, turning to point at one of the shelves, "just beyond that wall." As if the Italian woman wasn't bubbly enough, she brightened even more at this news.

"I must see how she is doing!" she announced. Excusing herself from the taller man, she moved towards the doll showcases with determination.

┼†‡

As Elizabeth was pulled along with her grandsire, she smiled when an idea came to mind, "Grandmother, why don't we let Miss Edith introduce herself first? They might be a little shy when speaking directly to you," she said to her kindly.

"They've got no need to be bashful around me," Drusilla proclaimed, surprised and slightly insulted, "not like I'd think to bite them- they've got no blood in their veins," she stated, turning her chin up a little defiantly. "But, if it would help Miss Edith make friends," she set her doll down on the shelf amongst the others, "I won't be such a fussy mum and embarrass her." Elizabeth gave her a supportive smile. Taking a step back, Drusilla turned her head away and pretended as though she wasn't 'listening in' on the dolls' 'conversations', but now and again, would peek over her shoulder to see if they were 'getting along'.

"Elizabeth!" Maddelena sang, spotting her new friend as soon as she rounded the corner.

Elizabeth turned at the sound of her name, "Madam de Beauvoir!" she cried happily with surprise.

"That is my husband's mother," Maddelena warned her playfully as she approached. "Please, just call me Maddelena," she chuckled, her smile large and warm. She greeted Elizabeth with open arms, "I didn't think I'd see you again so soon!" she gushed between kisses. Glancing over the young woman's shoulders, she noticed the cold and void stare that Drusilla gave her and nervously averted her eyes. Stepping back, she clung to her friend's hand and smiled at her happily, "I was planning on sending a message to you today, to see how you were doing-" she paused to glance down at Elizabeth's feet, "my, you don't appear to be hurt at all." She peered back up at her, "I was sure you'd be limping around with a cane or ordered bedrest. You appear to be a marvellously quick healer."

Elizabeth looked down at her leg, "I am certain it was just a nasty twist. Nothing to worry over, but I do appreciate the thought," she said with a light laugh. "I thank my lucky stars that I am not a complete and clumsy ox," she joked, laughing a bit at herself.

Maddelena looked to her friend a little more seriously as she lowered her voice, "You and I both know you are neither that clumsy nor at fault," indirectly indicating that Drusilla was the actual reason without saying her name out loud as not to alert her.

"Those aren't so pretty. Wouldn't think a lady of your upbringing could be so improper and vulgar," Drusilla said to Maddelena pointedly, her eyes wide and boring into hers.

Maddelena's lids fluttered as she stared back at her, alarmed and flabbergasted, "I-I…," she stuttered, "b-but I did not say anything," she chuckled nervously, looking to Elizabeth as a means of support.

"Didn't need to hear you speak. Your thoughts scream loud enough," Drusilla pouted, turning her head to look back at the dolls. The Italian woman's cheeks flushed scarlet as she lowered her gaze and wrung her gloved hands, feeling a growing sense of uneasiness in the other's presence. Elizabeth retained a small smile. Turning to Drusilla, she took hold of her hand as a calming gesture.

Maddelena took a deep breath and recomposed herself as she looked back up, "I had almost forgotten why I was here," throwing her shoulders back, she stepped towards the case of lined dolls, "I need to pick a gift for my friend's daughter," she smiled, trying to push her feelings of Drusilla aside. "Oh, why, isn't this darling," she cooed. Her hands gravitated towards the doll closest to Miss Edith.

"No!" Drusilla grabbed hold of her wrist and forcefully pulled her away. "Miss Edith fancies it! They've become fast friends; it's coming home with me!" Maddelena stared wide-eyed in shock with her mouth agape. Though Elizabeth understood that Drusilla acted more childish in many ways, this outburst came as a surprise to her.

Maddelena cringed at the woman's taut grip, "P-please… unhand me… you're hurting me…!" gasping with pain, she struggled to get away from her.

Elizabeth tried her best to remain calm, trying to appeal to Drusilla's status as grandmother as well as her childlike nature, "Maddelena does not mean any harm to Miss Edith. She obviously does not possess the gift of hearing them; she does not understand. I'm sure she will be perfectly reasonable and find another one, won't you, Maddelena?" she said in her calmest bedtime story voice.

"Promise me, you'll find another," Drusilla demanded of Maddelena, still holding fast to her wrist.

"Y-you're mad…," Maddelena breathed between clenched teeth, still struggling to pull away. It was with wide eyes and a worried expression as Elizabeth watched the scene unfold.

"Promise," Drusilla repeated, giving her hand a little tug.

Maddelena gave a small yelp and quickly agreed, "Y-yes, yes! I will choose another!"

Happy with her response, the elder vampire released her grip and turned to lift both Miss Edith and her new friend into her awaiting arms, "We're all going to get along famously," she hummed, walking past the two women with a skip in her step. Maddelena rubbed at her sore wrist and quickly backed away to allow the other passage.

Looking to Elizabeth, she uttered rapidly, "Did you see that? She is not right in the head!" Pulling down the cuff of her sleeve, she gasped to find the distinct mark of bruises in place of where Drusilla's fingers had clutched her, "She's bruised me!" she hissed, deep frown lines etching her usually jovial face. Elizabeth gently cradled her friend's wrist and observed the markings with a concerned frown. "I should have her reported and have her arrested!" Maddelena continued, her voice growing shriller; her words flitted rapidly and sounded more Italian than English. "Surely you can see how deranged she truly is now, Elizabeth!" she stated, her words heated, just above a loud whisper. "Come with me and be my witness. It might not be so safe to reside in the same household with a person who should be locked away," she said, nodding to her friend.

Elizabeth's once soft expression turned into a stern one, "Maddelena, Drusilla's condition has been with her for quite some time now; she does not know what she is doing most times. She is very seldom violent," she said. She took in a breath as if to calm herself, "She is like an elder sister to me; I cannot let you do that to her. Please, look past this. I assure you, she meant no real harm; she was just upset over the doll."

"It confuses me a great deal how quick you are to defend and protect her," Maddelena searched Elizabeth's eyes, trying to be her voice of reason. "If she is so ill, she poses a threat not only to others, but to herself. Having her roaming the streets so cavalier without proper care is dangerous. I suppose you and I see violence in different terms. If I recall, she tried to trip you and had you falling to the floor just last night. If you cannot see the danger she imposes- over something so little as a bisque doll- then image what more she could do if it concerns something substantial. I fear for your safety," Maddelena gave Elizabeth's hand a small squeeze. Throughout this, Elizabeth's face never wavered. "I shan't speak of this again," Maddelena promised, turning away to pick up one of the dolls, "but please, don't make mention of her when you are in my company either," she looked to Elizabeth for confirmation.

"I will not. You have my word," Elizabeth said softly.

"This shall do," Maddelena said with a sigh as she turned back to the dolls, lifting one up as she straightened its dress, and forcing a lighthearted smile. Elizabeth sighed to herself as she watched her friend leave. She remained in her spot for a moment before finding Drusilla.

"How does Miss Edith like her new friend?" she asked with a happier smile.

"She likes 'er very much," Drusilla smiled as she clutched Miss Edith to her chest and absently stroked its hair. "I've never heard her so chatty before," she giggled, covering her mouth with her other hand.

With her hood securely shielding her head, Drusilla left the store and slowly began to walk along the promenade. Spike trailed behind, having been assigned to holding Miss Edith's newly boxed 'friend'. He held it haphazardly tucked beneath one arm as he kept to the shadows. This left Elizabeth at Angelus' side again as he held his umbrella safely above them. From time to time, she would break away from the sights they passed to glance up at him. His confession lay fresh in her mind, now overshadowing the poor turn of events from the boutique.

Drusilla continued to wander aimlessly ahead, peeking into random shop windows, then skipping on to the next.

"Dru, you're going too far, love," Spike called out, watching as she trotted along merrily several shops away.

"Come, William, there's much more to be explored!" she called back, giggling as she began to run. He immediately took off after her, mindful of the sunlight and surprisingly hefty box on his arm. Skirting past other civilians, he sloshed through a puddle before almost running himself into an opening door in his recklessness.

"Bloody hell!" he growled, halting in his tracks as he glared. The man stood staunch in the doorway and stared back at him in bewilderment. Wasting little time, Spike shoved him back into the store, allowing the door to close behind the man, and room for him to continue on his childish pursuit. Finally catching up to his paramour, he caught her by the waist and pulled her into the shadows with him.

┼†‡

Angelus let out a low sigh as he watched his two progenies make fools of themselves running amok and draw too much unnecessary attention. Unlike her mentor, Elizabeth found their antics all too amusing. She laughed as she watched them for a while before turning her eyes towards Angelus again. He caught her in the act this time and returned a gentle smile. Though she felt her cheeks flush, Elizabeth held her gaze steady and smiled. They continued to walk in comfortable silence till they reached the puddle Spike had previously trudged through.

Angelus stopped to turn to Elizabeth, "Would you mind holding this for me?" he asked of her kindly as he handed over the umbrella. In her possible state of confusion, and his unforewarned gallantry, he lifted her up effortlessly from the waist, much like the dance they had shared in private. Elizabeth gasped in surprise. This quickly turned into a suppressed giggle as she cupped a gloved hand over her mouth whilst he settled her back onto the ground. After Angelus retrieved the umbrella, Elizabeth was once again attached to his arm. They resumed their tranquil walk with her head gravitating towards him, till she had it resting lightly against the side of his arm. A pleased smile crept across Angelus' lips as he peered down at the crown of her head. As time passed, he gradually lowered his arm till he had it hanging loosely by his side. He arched his long fingers upward, brushing gently at Elizabeth's elbow, seemingly to coax her to follow in his actions. Glancing at her from time to time, his eyes spoke to her more than words as his fingers stroked along the length of her forearm. When he finally managed to clasp her smaller hand within his, he held it within his grasp firmly. A timid and gentle smile came from Elizabeth as her hand conformed in his. She relaxed her hold and gently curled her thin fingers around his wide palm.

┼†‡

"Drusilla, no," Spike looked to Drusilla with defiance as he stood firmly in the shadows of a store awning.

"Come on, Willy," Drusilla said coaxingly, walking backwards into the main sidewalk beneath day sky, "don't be afraid, love, I'll be here to protect you," she said, her arms outstretched towards him.

"It's dangerous and insane, Dru, even by your standards," he replied adamantly. She giggled and twirled in front of him, bringing her hands to the edges of her hood. "Drusilla, no!" Spike reached out with an open hand, but balked when she wasn't within arm's distance. "Please!" he pleaded, panic-stricken and worried.

She laughed at him with more fervor, "Say the magic words," she sang.

"Dru!" Spike cried, his last uttered word before he witnessed his love cast down her hood. He dropped the box and lunged after her, throwing them both down onto the hard pavement as he used his own body to shield her from the effects of the deadly sun. After a moment of time had passed, the male vampire slowly opened his eyes, one at a time, only to peer at the beaming damsel below him.

"William, my hero," she cooed, running a hand through his tousled curls.

"But… how am I still here…? I should have turned to dust," he was puzzled at this strange predicament.

"The clouds," Drusilla pointed up at the sky. "It's dreadfully overcast. The sun's rays don't affect us so much now; should feel like nothing more than an insect sting," she giggled.

"Oh," he sighed in relief, giving her a smile. "You made me believe you'd gone suicidal," he said to her more seriously, a flicker of anger appearing in his eyes, "you cunning minx," he growled, a dark smirk returning to his lips. The two cackled and grovelled on the ground, which led to some very disturbing displays of affection. Passersby were quick to walk past them, but could not help but steal glances as whispers and suppressed giggling were unmistakeable.

Angelus cleared his throat to catch their attention, having finally reached them, "Are we interrupting something?" Elizabeth turned her head away at their overt display, uncomfortable and embarrassed, but unable to avoid them given their circumstances.

Spike managed to pull his lips away from Drusilla's momentarily to reply, "Yes," before planting them back down onto her mouth.

"William," Angelus sighed, releasing his hold on Elizabeth's hand to massage the bridge of his nose. "Dru, dear, he's gone and abandoned your new friend, unattended."

"Oh, poor thing!" Drusilla gasped, pushing Spike's face away as she scrambled up, dusting off Miss Edith in the process as she went to the box in aid.

"Really, in broad daylight, William?" Angelus quirked a disapproving brow at him.

Still lounging on the pavement, Spike perched himself up with his elbow, "Well, you know, happened to get swept up in the heat of things. As the saying goes: 'When in Rome'," he shrugged indifferently, flicking a small pebble away with a deft finger.

Angelus sighed and merely shook his head as he stepped over his legs, "Care to join us?" he called over his shoulder.

Rolling over, Spike watched as the distance grew between them, the three walking away with their backs to him. It was a strange and unfamiliar sight for him to behold, but not wanting to dwell on such an unclear and intangible thought, he would have followed them eventually had he not been jolted up by the small part in the clouds. Smoke billowed up as a shaft of light shone down on his ungloved hand, causing him to yelp and scuttle back into the shadows where his parasol remained unchecked. Hastily throwing it open, he hurried after his peers.

┼†‡

Their aimless meanderings led the four to the Place Rosetti, the first area where Spike and Elizabeth had set out to locate Drusilla and Angelus.

Noting that it was now well into the afternoon, Angelus turned to Elizabeth, "We've done much walkin' for the day. Shall we take a moment to rest your weary feet?" There were several cafes and bistros opened within that vicinity, and if they had not been hungry, the tantalising smells wafting from each eatery would have caused them to overlook that small detail.

"I think that is a lovely idea," Elizabeth said with a nod.

Finally closing his umbrella, Angelus led them into one of the more bustling bistros along that strip. They were seated comfortably away from the large windows at a square table- Angelus adjacent to both Drusilla and Elizabeth, and directly across from Spike. This arrangement would allow for his attempts at handholding inconspicuous and unnoticed to the other members of his family.

Spike drank from his glass- having ordered an entire bottle of red wine for himself- whilst Drusilla took to bandaging the burn on his hand with the restaurant cloth napkin.

"There, all better," Drusilla said, patting the handiwork of two long bunny ears from the knot she had made.

Angelus was careful to remain secretive, unclasping his hand from Elizabeth's when the waiter approached their table, and again when he had returned with their food. But every now and then, he'd inch his finger over to caress her hand, then have his palm clamped over hers once more. Elizabeth tried to keep her smitten smiles a little more discreet, but it was more difficult to fight the crimson burn that threatened beneath the pallor of her cheeks. Trying to avoid suspicion, Elizabeth preoccupied herself with the small tart she had ordered.

Drusilla poked at her souffle with the back of her spoon, entertained with how it managed to spring back in form, "It's softer than a pillow," she observed. She had originally requested it purely for the way that it sounded, but became entirely amused by the sight of it when it was placed in front of her. Spike smiled as he watched her, taking nibbles of his cheese platter- an afterthought when he had gotten his wine- whereas the elder vampires only mimed their dinner table manners. Angelus released his hold on Elizabeth again so he could appear busy as he cut his lamb into bite-size morsels. A pleased smile overcame his face at how happy this family outing was turning out to be.

"Shall we continue again with our evening hunts?" he asked a little more quietly as he turned to Elizabeth.

Spike gulped at his wine as he peered at them, "What? Are we not invited, either?" he rudely interrupted just as Elizabeth was about to answer.

"Hmm," Angelus exhaled slowly as he glanced down, skillfully hiding a few pieces of lamb into his dinner napkin, "I'll leave that up for the lady to decide." Looking back to his protege, he smiled, "What do you think, Lizzy? Would you like them to join… 'us'?" his inflections were subtle, but they were noticeable enough to indicate that their hunts together were usually a sacred bond that they only shared. With their romance now abloom, the idea of them spending time together alone was more precious, especially with the likes of a rambunctious travelling companion and his dotty lover in their midst; Angelus hoped she would take notice.

Wasting little time, Elizabeth replied with a small shake of her head, "It would be nice just to hunt with you," she said in a soft tone, seemingly to tiptoe around upsetting her sire and grandsire, when the real reason was far from it.

With raised brows, Spike looked to his progeny in surprise. There was a long couple seconds of silence followed by a reactive: "Oh." He then scoffed and continued to prattle on, "Didn't take you long to answer that, did you? Not to worry, though," he offered his hand towards Drusilla as she responded in kind, daintily slipping her fingers into his grasp, "Dru and me, we're going to paint this town red, aren't we kitten?" he turned to his lover, his tone dipping affectionately as he acknowledged her.

Angelus smiled at Elizabeth, "Then it shall just be the two of us," he reached for her hand underneath the table and cradled her fingers within his cold grasp, "as usual," giving her a sly wink. Elizabeth's demure smile broadened only marginally. "Perhaps we'll meet after we're done," he suggested, still wanting his other family members to feel like they were being included.

"Maybe," Spike sniffed indifferently with a shrugged shoulder, though he did secretly appreciate the other's invitation.

The pairs had parted ways after their meal- Spike and Drusilla returning to the homestead to drop off the woman's dolls before venturing off on their unplanned evening, and Angelus and Elizabeth continuing their civilised walks to explore areas of the town they had not yet crossed.

┼†‡

It was the afternoon, but by then, it appeared like it was evening, the season allowing the nights to approach much sooner to a vampire's advantage. Angelus no longer needed to shield them with the umbrella that hung obsolete in his grasp, allowing him much more freedom of movement. Keeping on the airs of a gentleman, he continued to escort Elizabeth on his arm, despite them now being alone from the other two.

They turned onto a quieter street, one that strayed from prying eyes, and most notably used by vagrants and others that remained unseen or shunned from society. This was a different area for the two, Angelus taking care to find spots where Elizabeth had free range of her pick of unscrupulous men- or women, if she so chose to. He removed his coat and laid it on the ground in a well-hidden crevice between two buildings. This would allow the pair to sit comfortably as they waited to see what might wander by. Angelus waited for Elizabeth to seat herself first before taking his spot next to her. They sat much closer and more comfortably than they had before, with his arm and leg brushing against the sides of hers.

"This has been turning out to be such a perfect day for me," he smiled as she peered up at him.

"It has been been a lovely day. I have not seen the sun in weeks; I had almost forgotten what everything looked like. And being with you… especially being with you…," she said glancing up at him through her feathered lashes.

"Even if we don't happen to catch anything tonight, the evening would end on a high note, just because you are here with me," he traced his fingers over her forearm till he reached her wrist, then clasped his hand over the top of hers. He took a moment to stare into her eyes with the little light that managed to filter down from the waxing moon up above. Slowly, he drew his head closer, dropping his lids half-mast as he glanced to her lips. They were just another inch away from sharing their second kiss if they weren't suddenly interrupted by the sound of a shrill scream. Angelus turned his head to peer out towards the approaching footsteps, making out the figure of a working class man wearing a well-worn and stained jacket and scuffed boots. The brim of his wool flat cap hung low and snug over his face, masking some of his features- a good thing to do since there was a squirming and squealing little girl within his arms.

"Let go of me, let go of me!" she cried in French, a girl no more than eight struggled within his grasp; her little fists smacked against his chest and her feet kicked in open air.

"I've heard about children disappearing within the city-" Angelus whispered quietly by Elizabeth's ear as he watched matters take place, "do you think he could be the culprit?" Elizabeth watched the man with rage simmering behind her eyes.

"Quiet! Shh! You're making too much noise!" the man growled angrily, taking on a dangerous tone of warning as he tried to heft her up higher; her constant thrashing only caused him to lose grip on her slim frame. With a shrill and piercing cry, the girl managed to kick him rather hard in the stomach, causing him to reluctantly release his hold on her. She slipped down to the ground in haste. "Insolent girl!" he growled, a hand clutched to his stomach. "I'll have you punished!" he threatened as the little girl stood at a slight distance to him, eyes wide and frozen with fear.

"What do you propose we should do?" Angelus turned to glance at Elizabeth, a small smile on his lips.

Standing without an answer, Elizabeth quickly walked out towards the girl, "If this is not your father, girl, run. Now!" she said in French, urgency and concern laced within her tone, and an undeniably and deadly venom made evident in her undertone. She stood at a slight distance between the man and girl.

The girl shook her head at the strange woman who seemingly appeared out of thin air, "N-no… he- he's a bad man! He's not my father!" she cried, her breathing heavy. Having Elizabeth be her buffer between the antagonistic man allowed her to turn on her heel and take off, not bothering another glance behind her shoulder.

The man growled at the child's response, "Why you little brat! Wait till I get my hands on you!" He trudged past Elizabeth and pointed at her threateningly, "You have no say in any of this; these matters do not concern you!" He continued to follow where the girl had taken off.

The child's testimony was all that Elizabeth needed to look to her victim without any further explanation, "Oh, it is very much a concern of mine," she said softly with venom dripping from her voice. Without a moment's delay, she pulled him deeper into the alley with her with lightning speed.

The man's eyes widened in surprise, taken off guard by the strength for her tiny frame, "U-unhand me, girl!" he spat, swatting an arm at where she clutched.

There were no more words from the young woman as she dragged him farther into the alley where she and Angelus had previously been sitting. Angelus had already moved aside when Elizabeth returned to their space, coat replaced on his person as he casually dusted a shoulder off with a gloved hand. Grabbing hold of his other arm, Elizabeth spun the man around and pinned him against a wall. With the little girl's terror still playing in her mind, it angered her all the more, once again providing no sympathy for the man. Like the little girl from before, it was with much irony that this time it was the man who cried out. He squirmed against the smaller figure that pressed against him, terrified to find out that she was not a girl at all, but a demon. As she slipped into her vampire form, Elizabeth looked to him with eyes of yellow stone. He screamed again, but this time, more out of fear than pain as she quickly bit into his neck.

The man darted his eyes to see Angelus standing nearby, "Help me!" he cried, eyes stricken wide with fear. Angelus swept his hands behind his back and merely smiled at him, enjoying the little theatrical scene Elizabeth was partaking in. At that moment, it dawned on him that the girl and man were both demons, and as his consciousness began to slip away from him, he knew he was going to die that night. In Elizabeth's righteous rage, nothing else existed but her hunger and the blood she pulled from the man's veins she needed to satisfy it with. Only when the man fell lifeless in her grasp did she return to her former sensibilities. With her face returned to normal, she slumped his body against the wall and began to clean herself up.

"Well done, Lizzy," Angelus commended. Taking a step forward, he smiled as he drew her attention towards him. Elizabeth smiled softly as she peered up at him. "It's always such a joy watching you at your craft. There's a magnetism I cannot explain…," he placed a gloved hand to the side of her face; Elizabeth blushed as she yielded to his touch and leaned into his palm, "I just can't seem to take my eyes off of you." Continuing where he had left off before the man had interrupted them, Angelus leaned in and kissed her a second time, allowing his lips to linger longer than before. Finally drawing back, he smiled, "Now, that's a 'bloody' kiss," he said with a dark sense of humour, enjoying the taste of dinner she'd made of the man who lay cold and face down just inches from where they stood. Elizabeth laughed lightly at his joke, only to return to nervous habits of biting her bottom lip. Angelus turned and took her hand within his own, "Shall we continue with our walk then?" leaving the corpse to cool, and for fodder for vermin to feed on.

They ended up along the Promenade des Anglais, one of their more frequented and favourite spots for their evening strolls, often leading them into conversations that were more suited for their upbringing and interests, things that Drusilla lacked, and Spike, though finely bred, rebelled against. It was no wonder that these two were getting along so well and in such a short period of time.

As the hour grew late, Elizabeth suggested that they return to the manor and sit in the library before they retired. Angelus nodded in agreement, knowing full well where her heart's desire truly lay.

┼†‡

They entered the double doors of the manor, smiling and chuckling on their last thought when Maurizio stepped into the vestibule to greet them.

"Oh, you've returned," he said, looking a little relieved.

"Good evening, Maurizio," Angelus smiled at his friend. He paused as he took note of the apprehension he appeared to be in, "Is there something troubling you?" A look of concern washed over Elizabeth's face.

"Ah, no, no… not of any sort, really," he began, trying to wave it off. Then he glanced to his female guest, "I… I had thought you had said you were going to spend your time in the library today, only to learn you had been out in town all day," he said, almost defensively.

"Not to worry, good friend, she was in good hands," Angelus glanced to his side and smiled at Elizabeth, "I was with her the entire time," he said, turning back to his friend.

"Yes… yes of course," Maurizio nodded, not looking completely satisfied, "I had just thought…- if I could have a moment alone to speak to you, Elizabeth," he turned to her, his face serious.

Angelus glanced between them, "That shouldn't be a bother now, she's returned safe and sound, in one piece."

"Yes, thank you, Angelus," Maurizio nodded to his guest and friend. "May I…?" Maurizio gestured to his side, an invitation for Elizabeth to follow into a more private setting.

Elizabeth glanced between the two men before answering, "Of course," she said with her brows slightly furrowed in concern. Walking with her host, she looked to his face for answers, "Is there something wrong, Monsieur di Bazza? I do hope I have not caused any trouble for you," she asked politely with slight caution.

Maurizio stepped into the next room, then turned to Elizabeth as she spoke to him, "No, you have been no trouble to me at all, but I-" he paused as his eyes wandered over her face, a slight tension knit between his brows, "are you… are you all right?" he asked softly, a touch of concern in his voice. "After what had transpired from the night before… you just appear to be completely fine today, as though nothing had happened," he lowered his eyes, obviously perplexed and bothered at the entire situation.

Quite relieved with his answer, Elizabeth gave him a reassuring smile, "I can assure you, Monsieur di Bazza, that it was just a nasty twist. I have very little tolerance for pain; it felt worse than what it really was. I am right as rain now. I do thank you, however, for watching over me and sending a doctor to my aid, but I give you my word, I am fine now," she said with a sweet look on her face.

"I'm relieved that you haven't sustained a worse injury," Maurizio said, "but in addition to that matter…," he trailed off as he looked to her once again, as if he were searching for some hidden clue from her, "what had happened last night… am I being delusional to believe that we shared a moment?" his brows were deeply furrowed together in his state of confusion, hoping that Elizabeth would clear up any brewing questions he could not answer himself. Not wanting to be presumptuous nor make a fool of herself, it took Elizabeth a good moment to think about what he meant. With an apologetic look, she glanced up and found her answer in his face.

Elizabeth cast her eyes down briefly, unsure of what to say to him, "Monsieur di Bazza, I do apologise if I have given any wrong impressions. You are a gracious host and a dear friend…. Please forgive me if I am being presumptuous with your meaning. I have not been imposed with a question like this before," she said softly. It took a moment for the man to register what she had said, his eyes widened in surprise, then a look of confusion and denial washed over his face as he looked to her.

He drew in a breath, as though he were about to speak, then paused and averted his eyes, "I find it difficult to believe you can be so cruel to say that, as though nothing happened." He glanced back up to her, "What a fool I've been, to make myself believe it to be true- you spin stories with your words and steal a man's heart, just to leave it in the dirt," he looked away and shook his head. "But not to worry," he lifted a hand to ascertain that he did not need her pity and took a step away from her, "I shan't pursue this conversation any longer. A friendship now strained- I shall bury this in the past." He turned back around to glance at her from the short distance where he stood, "Do not feel as though you need to leave my home because of this… misunderstanding; you are still free to stay as my guest," he glanced down as he placed a hand within his pocket. "It won't be long before I leave again to continue my travels. I shall be gone from your sight, soon enough," he said as he walked out the room.

┼†‡

Even though the pair were out of sight from Angelus' view, they were not far enough to escape his vampire hearing. Throughout the strange conversation, Angelus had heard everything. He was curious as to what could have been misconstrued for Maurizio to believe what he did- whatever it was. Angelus quietly slipped away in time before he was spotted by the disgruntled man.

┼†‡

Elizabeth stood there alone for a moment, feeling a mixture of confusion, remorse, and some form of held responsibility for her host's state of agitation. Though she wasn't at fault for the man's romantic feelings for her, she felt some guilt for having to deny and reject his advances. Not wanting to take her own personal matters with her, she waited for that strange feeling to pass before meeting with Angelus again. She left to find him in the library where they had initially planned to spend the end of the night together.

Angelus stood from the familiar home that Elizabeth had made at the window sill when she approached. Noting the perplexed expression on her face, he paused before carefully asking: "Is everything all right…?" despite knowing full well how Elizabeth and Maurizio's conversation went; he did not want to give hint that he had purposefully been eavesdropping.

Elizabeth sat next to him in silence before Angelus joined her, "Monsieur di Bazza… I believe he has… feelings for me."

Angelus looked at her attentively and thoughtfully, "I had a sneaking suspicion Maurizio might have had growing affections for you," he began, "but I cannot entirely blame him for t'at, as I full well know what it's like," he smiled at her tenderly.

"I did not quite have the words to deny what he could have postulated that we had shared a moment. Now he thinks me cruel. I… simply care for you, but I might have made an enemy out of a good friend- our good friend."

Angelus moved closer, placing his hand on top of hers as a means of comfort, "Shh… don't let your thoughts stray to such things, he still remains a friend. And if he suggests otherwise, I'm sure I could convince him to change his mind," he teased. Canting his head slightly, he peered at her as a small smile persisted on his lips, "You cannot please everyone, Lizzy, nor can you control how they feel about you. Inevitably, you are bound to disappoint one lonely soul, if not many. Don't feel as though the blame is entirely on your part, that is just how complicated life can be." Elizabeth listened attentively, remaining quiet save for a small nod.

"This is the first time I have experienced something like this. It is all so…," she looked at him with timid eyes that sought answers and comfort, "confusing."

Putting a hand to the side of her face, Angelus brushed his thumb across her cheek with soft strokes, "It is all very confusing at times, isn't it? Sometimes it is best to just let things happen in those states." He moved in closer, taking his lips to hers as a means to help erase her thoughts and agitation. When they had parted from their kiss, he pulled her close, helping to guide her head as she rested it against his shoulder.

┼†‡

Not realising how many hours they had spent in the library talking, they were alerted at how late it had actually gotten when Drusilla and Spike had returned, which was usually around a pressing hour before dawn. Angelus stood from their comfortable position, almost regrettably having to untangle himself from her, but braved a smile and suggested they should retire to bed. Elizabeth stood with a small and sad smile and a reluctant nod. Walking out, they crossed paths with the noisy couple before they could ascend the stairwell.

"Oh, hello Daddy, granddaughter," Drusilla glanced to them merrily, giving a little happy chirp.

"Did you have a nice time out, Dru?"

"'Twas lovely," she laughed, gathering at her skirt and giving it a shake; she glanced up at Spike as he shared in her laughter.

"Had a ball," Spike continued. "There's a lot you can do with a pianist and a crew of fisherman," he giggled.

"Hmm, I can imagine," Angelus replied, not exactly words of encouragement when Spike had yet to divulge his retelling of his tale.

"You been on your own adventure?" Drusilla looked at Elizabeth curiously, her smile genuine and carefree as it had always been, save for those odd spells of jealousy. "Would you share that for tonight's bedtime story?" she asked innocently.

"Perhaps a short tale, grandmother," Elizabeth said softly. She glanced a quick and tired smile to Angelus before leaving with Drusilla on her arm.

Angelus returned a sweet smile and a nod as he watched the two depart, "Sweet dreams, my two precious girls."

┼†‡

Drusilla took to her room before poking her head into Elizabeth's via the secret doorway, "Come, granddaughter, let grandmummy help you get cleaned up," she announced, walking in with nothing on but her chemise, and corset still affixed to her chest. Also standing in her chemise, Elizabeth turned to see Drusilla approaching her. Drusilla picked up the brush on the vanity and sat Elizabeth down. She skillfully untied her ribbons with the ease of someone who had done this many times before. Passing the comb through her grandprogeny's hair, the elder began to hum a sad and haunting but beautiful tune.

"You've got such fine hair, granddaughter, very much like a doll's," Drusilla commented, giving the brush some final passes through before settling it down on the vanity and a final and happy pat on Elizabeth's head. When she had finished, Elizabeth stood to change into her nightgown as she prepared for bed. She sat with a book in her lap as Drusilla hopped in next to her.

Snuggling up close as she usually did, Drusilla rested her head on Elizabeth's chest as she peered up at her face with large eyes, "I would like to make a request," she stated. "Tell me a story about a dark love." Smiling at her grandsire, Elizabeth paused in thought. She had already read selections from Poe, so she decided this time she would make one up.

With a little smile, Elizabeth began her tale: "Once upon a time, there was a castle. It was large and white with gardens so vast, fairies would turn green and nearly whither away in their envy. Kept in this castle was a princess, given the entire grounds to play in and explore, but was warned not to stray too close to the wood's edge."

Drusilla listened closely with the fixation of a child in awe, "But why was she kept there? Must have been such a lonely life with no one else to talk to," she whispered in her girlish trill.

"One day while walking the gardens, a wolf appeared, a wolf with eyes that could lead even the most gallant hunter to his doom."

Drusilla smiled and gave a small yelp of excitement.

"Having never laid eyes upon such a beast before, the princess was lured into the wolf's trap as she left her kingdom behind. It led her far into the woods, so far, she would never find her way out again. Lost and nearly blinded in the dark, the princess was only nudged along until she came to a halt against what she thought was a tree. This turned out to be a man cloaked in darkness, but with eyes and a smile that gave her enough light to see a handsome face."

Drusilla gasped at these turn of events, "Has she found her dark prince?" she whispered quietly, toying with Elizabeth's long strands of hair, and entwining it with her raven curls.

"'Stay close to me, my princess, and I will be your eyes,' he said as he offered a hand to her. The princess, though unsure of what to do, took his hand and let him lead the way. On their journey, she grew weary, and without any warning, he lifted her into his arms and walked until a palace of moonlight and shadow came into his sight," Elizabeth said in a soft tone.

Drusilla perched her head up to glance at the younger girl, "Did they marry? Both becoming dark rulers of their kingdom as king and queen?" She paused to glance down at the sheets, "Rulers of wolves, perhaps? Yes. I'd call 'em to do my bidding. Wreak havoc on that ol' white castle for lockin' me up within those walls," she turned her chin up, conjuring up an alternate world to Elizabeth's much tamer tale, "then summon a party that would last days on end, dancing under the moonlight in pools of their blood," she giggled.

Elizabeth laughed and shook her head, "Be patient grandmother, the story is not yet over," she said softly. "It was sad to say, that in the castle of shadow, the princess missed and longed for her home. It was something lonely but familiar, far less scary than the world she would forever live in.

"In the light of only candles, she saw that the man from the woods was indeed a prince. She thought the wolf was mesmerising, but the prince's smile could charm stone and set fire to anything he desired. He could watch any world burn at his leisure, and yet, in his arms, was the princess clad in the white gown he found her in. Taking her hand, he told her to spin. As she did, a faint sound of screams filled the air and a mist surrounded her dress of white flowers, turning it into silk of the deepest reds.

"'I can dress you in screams, put stars in your hair, yet you are still frightened. No matter; you will live. Love at my side, my princess, and in due time, you will not only be able to walk in the darkness, you will stride,' he told her.

"In the throneroom was a gigantic throne made of leather, gold, and wood, twisting and snaking up to the ceiling where the prince sat. Next to it was a smaller throne that rose from the floor, made for the princess. They were joined by the wolf with a doe at his side, a doe that could turn into whatever she wished.

"Upon seeing whom the prince had chosen, the doe turned into a glorious raven and fetched a crown of dark blossoms for her head. The two were soon married underneath the glow of an ever present moon.

"With a gentle hand, the prince guided the young princess to love her home in the dark woods. And with winning her heart, the fate of the world of light had been sealed. For now, the castle was but a memory; trees grew through the castle walls, thorns in the gardens. If you walk through the woods at night, you can hear the king, now of both worlds, hushing his crying bride as she mourns the loss of her kingdom. He'll be holding her in his arms, cloaking her in blood and shadow to comfort her," Elizabeth said with the same timid and burning cheeks of a girl; she smiled as her eyes were seemingly lost in a dream.

For the remainder of the story, Drusilla was deathly silent. Having not moved even an inch, or having the need to breathe, her silence was eerie, like she was listening to Elizabeth give a eulogy at a funeral. She paused for a lengthy moment after the story had ended before dreamily sighing, "Such a man… how unfortunate to only exist in fairy tales," she sighed once more, but this time laced with a yearning.

Elizabeth smiled with a sleepy nod. "It's time for bed, grandmother," she yawned, "William will come looking for you soon," she said as her eyes began to drift closed.

Drusilla ran a motherly hand through Elizabeth's hair, then kissed her on the cheek, "Sweetest dreams, granddaughter." Tucking the blanket over her still figure, the elder woman tip-toed off to the adjoining door back into her room.


	29. Day 33: This Consciousness that is aware

Elizabeth languidly woke with sleep heavy on her eyelids. She shifted her arms out from beneath the covers and lay in bed with her eyes closed momentarily before her brows knit together with confusion. After gaining some mental clarity, she realised that her hand had brushed up against- what she could only imagine to be- someone's arm. Now fully awake, she snapped her eyes open as it dawned on her that she was not alone in her wide bed- the pressure of the mattress giving way to the weight of the person who lay beside her. Instinctively, she jolted up and snatched the covers away to reveal the uninvited guest. Her eyes gaped as they fell to the figure who was nestled comfortably in a fetal position.

"Oh, it's only you, grandmother," she heaved a sigh of relief and leaned back against her pillows.

Drusilla blinked several times before shifting her face upward to peer at her grandprogeny.

"What happened to bring you to my room?" Elizabeth glanced down at her with a gentle smile, concern causing her brows to tilt slightly upwards.

"William has disfigured Miss Corine's face," Drusilla pouted, looking quite alert despite having just woken up. "I did not want to share my bed with him because he was upsetting me, so I decided to sleep here. Was that all right with you, dear?" she asked softly, her brows lightly knitting together.

Elizabeth smiled, "Of course, grandmother, you are always welcome."

Drusilla sat up with a smile, happy with the open invitation. "Perhaps I shall spend another night and tell you a bedtime story," she suggested.

With a small chuckle, Elizabeth nodded, "I would love that, grandmother."

She climbed out of bed and began to change into a day dress, "I am sure William is quite sorry about the entire matter. You know he would never make you upset on purpose," Elizabeth said softly, turning around to face her with a reassuring smile.

Drusilla began to pout slightly at mention of Spike. "He's still gone and spoilt it all," she began to throw a small tantrum with the sheets and wrung them in her hands. "It's a broken thing now; hardly worth lookin' at. Who'd want a fing like that?"

"I said it was a bloody accident!" came Spike's muffled voice from behind the wall.

He had dropped the box that Miss Corine was residing in the previous day because of a heroic attempt to save Drusilla from the effects of the dreadfully overcast sun. This had inadvertently caused a continuous crack to run the full-length of the doll's face.

Drusilla glanced at the tapestry where the secret door lay hidden, "You should have been more careful! You've gone and hurt her!" she yelled back.

Spike burst through the door as he was, yet again, assaulted by the hanging tapestry.

Elizabeth muffled her giggling through her hand at this.

Without missing a beat, Spike swatted it aside and trudged towards the bed. He stared vehemently at Drusilla, "For crying out loud! It's a bloody doll! The thing's not even alive!"

"I can hear her speak!" Drusilla said in her defense.

Spike put his hand to his face and lowered his head, "That's because you aren't exactly all right in the head," he muttered between clenched teeth, his voice low.

Drusilla elicited a high pitched mewl from her throat and clutched the sheets to her body as she turned her head away from him.

"Ahem," Elizabeth interrupted; Spike glanced to her with annoyance, "the way I see it, Miss Corine was beautiful, but she looked like any other doll. She is special and apart from the rest now," she continued with a small smile.

"Ha! See," Spike extended an arm towards his progeny as he looked back at Drusilla, "the girl's finally speaking common sense here."

With a ribbon in hand, Elizabeth sighed and headed to the door, "I will leave you two to sort things out." She closed the door behind her after she left the room.

Spike slumped down on the bed across from Drusilla, only to cause her to flinch and turn her head away from him even more. He sighed out of exasperation, "What is it now? Haven't I apologised enough?"

Drusilla remained defiant, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, "You called me mad."

Spike's eyes widened in surprise, "Oh." He had not expected her to actually respond so coherently to his words. He was even more astonished that her response was so appropriate and human, considering her case. Spike half laughed and took hold of her hands, pulling them towards him, "But you are mad," Drusilla turned to him and glared, her pout fixed in disappointment, "and I love you for that," Spike said happily.

For a moment, Drusilla said nothing, only to stare at him with her large doe eyes. "Do you? Really, Willy?"

He kissed her hand, "Everything- demon, undead, and evil. You're the only one for me, my sweet."

Her expression softened at that, pulling a hand up to caress his cheek, "Aren't you darling," a small smile finally peaked through on her lips.

They hadn't realised that Elizabeth had left them to settle their argument in peace, but even if she had still been there, they'd have ignored her presence and still continued on with their more passionate engagements.

┼†‡

Elizabeth found herself in the comforts of the library, this time in a nice corner with a small and comfortable settee. With her hair now pulled back in its usual fashion, and a new book selected for her reading leisure, she sat in silence with nothing but the words in front of her.

"Lizzy?" Angelus called out as he searched for her. A couple hours had passed since Elizabeth had relocated herself to the library. Angelus followed her scent up the loft when he did not spot her in her usual place. "There you are," he smiled as he turned a corner, finding her situated in a dark space flanked by shelves.

It took Elizabeth a moment to realise the voice calling her name was not only one that she had conjured up in her story, but belonged to her mentor and secret lover. She lay the open book down against her lap and turned to glance at the vampire who moved towards her, "Good morning," she said happily.

"Good morning," Angelus replied, taking a seat across from her. "What are we reading today?" he smiled, glancing at the book in her lap.

Elizabeth placed a hand on the cover, "A collection of 'The Canterbury Tales'; I am currently reading 'The Wife of Bath'. It is very interesting. A knight is accused of… raping a maiden, and the queen promises she would spare him if he could tell her what women truly desire. He asked many women, but could not get one answer- till he came upon an old hag. She promised to give him the answer in exchange for a favour. That is all I have read thus far," she said softly, looking down at the book with intrigue.

Angelus gave a small nod and hum, "You may need to tell me how that turns out in the end," he smiled. "Please, carry on where you left off. I would just like to sit here with you, if you don't mind."

Elizabeth nodded and picked up her book, "Not at all."

As she took back to her reading, Angelus quietly slipped away to fetch some loose paper and a graphite pencil. Picking up a large book to use as his makeshift desk, he sat across from her once more as her eyes flitted across the pages. He quietly observed her with his dark, brooding eyes before touching the still pencil to the paper, and periodically lifted his head now and again as he sketched.

After several minutes had passed, Elizabeth closed her book, "That turned out to be very interesting," she smiled as she looked back up at Angelus.

"Did it?" he glanced up at her with a smile, his hand pausing briefly. "Please, don't move. Could you tilt your head down a wee bit, like you were before? I am almost finished," he said, not bothering to explain himself. "But, go on. I'll be done in a moment or two."

With a curious look flashing in her eyes, Elizabeth lowered her head to its former position, "It was interesting how the knight came to find the answer, and along with it, a change in character through the threat of his life. He also came to honour the woman whom he had previously found repulsive. He learnt about inner beauty, true loyalty, and respect." With her head bowed, she could not see what Angelus was doing, and the curiosity ate at her.

Angelus gave a small chuckle at that, "Decidedly practising his virtues once he feared his life was under threat," his hand continued to move with decisiveness. "A great sense of irony t'at he grew to love a woman he once despised. Why she would remain so devoted to such a man remains a mystery." He paused to look down at his paper, clutching the pencil within his palm as he decided he was satisfied with the product. "You may look up now," he smiled.

Elizabeth eagerly looked up to see him turning his book around.

"A beauty between two worlds."

"Angelus…," she breathed, eyes wide and a hand cupped over her mouth, "it's beautiful."

It was a sketched portrait of Elizabeth reading. There was a finality and confidence where the graphite touched the paper. The results of that were a likeness and an impressive realism, things that Angelus had an eye for.

Elizabeth's cheeks flushed as she looked to him with the sweetest of smiles, feeling moved and flattered all at once.

"If you think so, I can assure you that the model is infinitely more beautiful," he smiled as he looked to her. "There was just a moment as you were reading- so serene and vulnerable…- I had to… capture it. I do hope it meets your expectations."

"It exceeds them…."

"Next time, I'll draw you with your eyes towards me, when you're not so involved in a book," he teased lightly.

Elizabeth cast her eyes downward with a slight timidity as she giggled, "You are tremendously talented, Angelus."

"T'ank you, my dear, I had the past hundred years or so to hone my craft," he said lightheartedly as he watched her closely. He paused and turned around in his seat just a moment before one of the maids called out in search for him.

"Monsieur Angelus? Monsieur Angelus?"

Glancing to Elizabeth, he smiled and stood, "Excuse me while I see why I'm being summoned."

Elizabeth nodded and watched him leave.

┼†‡

"Yes, I am here," he announced in French as he descended the stairs.

The maid stopped in her steps, having just turned to leave, "Ah, Monsieur," clutching a hand by her chest, she breathed a small sigh of relief. She turned back around to face him, "Monsieur di Bazza would like a word with you regarding business affairs and his travels."

"Right at this moment?"

"Yes, if it is of no inconvenience to you."

Angelus paused for a brief moment. "Is he in his study?"

"Oui, Monsieur," the maid nodded.

Turning his head to the loft, Angelus called out to Elizabeth: "I am leaving to have a word with Maurizio, Lizzy. I shall return as soon as it is over."

He left the library for her to be alone once more.

┼†‡

Angelus' absence stretched on to an hour, time, in which, Elizabeth spent reading. But, she would often get distracted by the portrait Angelus had sketched of her. She picked it up and giggled at it with girlish delight as her thoughts drifted with warm affection to him. However, Elizabeth's comfortable solitude was soon reunited with the company of a wandering and reluctant vampire.

Spike ambled into the library and cleared his throat loudly, knowing full well his mousy progeny was hiding out in there. He was alone.

"I can feel you in here, Liz, where have you gone and holed yourself up, now?" he asked out loud, looking around the vast ceilings and tall stacks of shelves.

Elizabeth stood with the paper in hand as she walked to the top of the staircase, "Up here. I am waiting for Angelus to return, but you are welcome to join me," she smiled, her tone more chipper than usual.

Spike turned his head and followed the sound of her voice, "Good lord, there's another bloody level in here?" he sighed. Idling at the bottom of the stairs, he fiddled at the bannister as he stared at the floor, "Uh, no, best if you came down here," he began, flicking his gaze back up at her. "Angelus can wait. For now, we have some more pressing matters at hand," he sighed, looking a little uneasy.

"'Pressing matters'?" the happy expression on her face faltered and worry unmistakably seeped into her voice. She quickly descended the stairs, "What is going on? Why do you look so ill at ease?"

Lowering his eyes again, Spike let out a low and long sigh, "This is difficult for me to even say this, but," he glanced up as she neared, "I need your help."

Elizabeth's eyes widened as her brows shot up, then bowed with concern. "My help? What is it?" she searched his face for an answer.

"'Should just come out and say it then," Spike's shoulders raised as he took a small breath in, then collapsed as he exhaled. "Dru's throwing a bloody party for that blimey doll of hers and has ordered me to be in charge of getting decorations- bloody hell if I know anything about dolls and decorations- this is where you come in," he said, all drawn out in one fast breath.

Elizabeth's concern faded into a look of shock and amusement. "You're asking me to help fetch decorations for a party, as if it were a matter of life and death?" she asked with a raised brow and a giggle.

"Well, when it's concerning Drusilla," Spike said in his defense, his face drooping into a slight scowl. "Just… maybe with exception to this," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "I just want to make her happy," he gave a small shrug as he glanced down.

Even though Angelus had promised his time away would be short, his hour of absence was already proving it was unlikely he would be back any time soon. "I'll do it," Elizabeth said with a small nod whilst crossing her arms, forgetting that the portrait was still in her hand.

Peering back up at his progeny, Spike smiled, "Good! Shall we be on our way then?" Instantly cheering up, he was relieved to have a female's opinion on such matters.

As he turned to lead the way out, his eyes strayed to the paper she held within her hand. It was instantly recognisable as a drawing made by Angelus. It only seemed natural that the two were spending so much time together that he'd have done a portrait of her, but… Spike couldn't place his finger on it.

It seemed… peculiar.

He made no comment on it and had the carriage readied for them to venture into town.

┼†‡

Spike opened Drusilla's trusty parasol and hopped out of the carriage after it had stopped. He was in front of a grandstanding toy shop with hand carved wooden handles and double doors.

"Rather lavish for something that just sells toys," he commented. He waited for Elizabeth to exit before proceeding.

As they approached the doors, a little girl walked out hand-in-hand with her father and a new toy he had bought for her. It was with a subtle bittersweet smile that Elizabeth watched them as they passed.

Spike shut the parasol and shouldered his way into the door in one awkward motion. Once inside, he was stopped in his tracks by the amazement of the assortment of items there: rocking horses, skipping ropes, automata toys, leaded tin soldiers painted with bright red for their coats, marbles, tops, balls, and other imaginable things a child could dare to dream of. The way his eyes widened, one would have thought he was a boy walking into his first toy shop.

" _Excusez-moi_ ," a lady smiled politely at him as she tried to exit the premises.

Spike shuffled aside and ventured in farther, continuing to glance around with wide-eyed wonder and with the frilly parasol clutched in hand. "So, what about those things we needed again?" he said absently to Elizabeth.

"I will look for decorations whilst you fetch a doll tea set," she said as she began to walk away.

Spike turned to look at her, "…'Me'?" He followed her, "Why do I have to be the one looking for a tea set? I thought you were going to take care of everything."

Elizabeth giggled to herself and continued to walk on.

Spike gave a little exasperated sigh and stopped in his pursuits when his cries were all but ignored. Crossing his arms, he peered around at his surroundings and strolled down one of the aisles, finding nothing but hand carved wooden toys. Not paying attention to what was directly in front of him, he ended up tripping and falling face first onto the hardwood floor.

"OW! For _bloody_ sakes!" Spike howled as he pushed his torso up. He angrily glanced down at his boots to see what he might have walked into, only to see a woman sprawled over on the floor.

She muttered and mumbled to herself in her own stupor, her high pitched yelp masked by Spike's own raucous.

"Oh," he sighed with annoyance, heaving himself up off the floor and giving a few pats to dust his already somewhat shabby clothes, "didn't see you there, love. On account of you crouchin' down there like some squatter." He walked back towards her, "You all right? Um, _allez-vous bien?_ " he took a moment to find the words in French as he offered a hand to help her up.

The woman continued to ramble on in French, looking a little stunned as to what had happened, but responded to Spike and took his hand.

Spike let out a sigh, fidgeting as the woman continued to speak to him in a language he had difficulties grasping, "Uh huh, right, love," he scratched at his temple and glanced around him. Then without much warning, Spike turned and walked away, simply leaving the woman there to watch him go, shocked and wordless for once.

Strutting down the next row, he found the things there to be more automated. There was a father and son browsing miniature trains. He passed them, only to stop as a thought occurred to him.

"Excusez-moi," Spike began, having backtracked to where they stood.

The father turned around to peer at him, "Oui?"

" _Pouvez-vous m'aider_? Um…," Spike paused for a moment as he scrounged for the words after asking the man for help. " _Parlez-vous anglais_?" he asked, hoping on a chance the other might know some English.

The man smiled and shook his head.

"Bugger," Spike sighed and bowed his head. Lifting his gaze back up at the man, hoping he might further assist him, Spike was met with the scene of him and his son escaping before they disappeared around the end of the aisle. "How rude," Spike commented with slightly raised brows.

Still, Spike trudged on. This time, he came upon a little girl who was rocking on a wooden rocking horse.

She immediately stopped as he neared, glancing up at him with large eyes.

Spike glanced back at her as he continued forward, then stopped.

"Hmm," he hummed to himself in thought, then with a little shrug, he turned around to face her. " _Salut, petite fille_ ," he crouched down in front of her as he greeted her.

"Salut," she replied.

" _Peux-tu m'aider? Je cherche quelque choses pour une poupée_."

She turned to him more attentively as he told her he was looking for something for a doll.

Spike scrunched his face up as he tried to summon the words for 'tea set' in French. "Um… oh!" his face lit up expressively. He mimed himself pouring a steaming cup of tea, then an invisible spoon as he scooped out some sugar, and poured from a creamer of milk. He followed this by stirring his beverage with a make-believe teaspoon, then brought this concoction to his mouth as he pretended to sip it, keeping care to mind both the teacup handle and saucer.

The little girl giggled at him, clearly amused at his antics. Pushing herself up off the horse, she skipped forward and waved her hand, beckoning for him to follow her.

Spike smiled in relief, "Finally, someone who can actually help."

He followed her. Stepping around a tall partition and passing other aisles, he finally found himself at a cozy little nook where real tea was being served at a round table. Seated there were women- most likely the mothers of the children that wandered the store- taking the time to relieve their stresses and feet as they waited for their children to return to them. At that moment, they all paused to look at him, surprised that a lone man had wandered to their table.

Before Spike had much time to respond, a cup of tea was being poured for him- most likely by someone who worked there- and he was offered a seat. Not sure what had compelled him, Spike sat down and hung the parasol on the back of the chair next to him. He looked around in bewilderment as the women there gave him warm smiles and spoke to him in honeyed tones.

A plate of biscuits was pushed towards him before he politely waved a hand, "Oh, no thank you," he declined. Then the sugar bowl was presented to him. He raised his brows in kind as he scooped a couple of spoonfuls into his cup. Shortly after, the creamer was offered to him, and he responded by also pouring some milk into his tea. After giving his hot beverage a good stir- with a real spoon- he lifted up his teacup as he glanced around him. His eyes fell to the girl that had brought him there as she brought her own teacup- albeit large for her hands- to chink against the side of his. She smiled broadly at him as she sipped, leaving him to sigh as he realised what had happened. "Not exactly what I was askin' for…," Spike mumbled, eventually giving in to take a small sip of tea himself.

┼†‡

Elizabeth knew better than to simply wander the shop aimlessly, and in a completely foreign country, no less. After her sire had drifted away from her, she approached one of the clerks to assist her. Not finding everything she needed for her decorations, she slipped out to a nearby linen shop after she was given instructions on how to get there. She returned within a short several minutes to find the toy shop in the same state as she had left it, and her sire absent. Unsure whether she had given him a task that was too challenging, Elizabeth decided to take it upon herself.

She had the clerk take her to the area for doll tea sets and made a selection- though this was after she was certain her sire hadn't. Having asked the clerk whether a gentleman had made a purchase of one of the sets within the past half hour, she was correct with her assumption when the answer was no. She sighed softly as she watched him carry it to the counter so that it could be wrapped, and wondered what her sire could have been doing all that time.

┼†‡

The little girl had moved away to a smaller table where she pulled up one of the dolls that was perched upon a child's chair. She held a protective arm across its chest.

Spike rested his cheek against his palm, thinking as he watched her, "Huh," he hummed. Now with cup in hand, he swivelled in his seat to face her, "Oy, petite fille."

Her eyes rose to him, pausing from her fictional gathering with her dolls.

"Tea," he tapped a finger to the side of his china, "for dolls- pour les poupées."

She hopped up towards him again with doll in arms.

Spike waited, wondering what she would do. With an actual physical teacup present, he believed his message was clearer than the miming he had done before.

Standing in front of him, the little girl held her doll forward and dipped its head towards the cup in Spike's hand, pretending as though it had taken a sip from it.

"Ugh, no, no, no!" Spike put a hand to his face. "Not tea _for_ dolls," he grumbled.

The women around him began to giggle at their sweet interaction.

The girl continued to play with the seemingly grumpy but funny stranger, sitting her doll on his lap as she quickly scurried off to fetch another doll into her arms and returned to him. She picked up a biscuit and held it to the sitting doll's mouth while Spike let out an exasperated sigh.

"I get enough of this playtime with Dru at home, little girl. Take this thing off my arms and bugger off now."

The little girl just giggled at him and held her other doll up to his face, making a smacking sound with her lips as she made it kiss his cheek.

Spike blinked several times, obviously taken off guard by that gesture. "Bested by the likes of a little French girl and her army of dolls," he mumbled.

The women took to more giggling.

┼†‡

Elizabeth's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of giggling women. She paused, suddenly curious as the laughter persisted, and followed it around a partition. Only what she came upon was something she did not at all expect. It was a sight that was both strange and endearing, that a man so beastly as her sire, was seated amongst a circle of women and one young girl who seemed entirely enamoured by him. It was a welcome occurrence, seeing him calm and almost friendly when he was not being confrontational or just a plain grouch as she thought him to be.

Elizabeth smiled as she watched in silence for a moment before walking forward towards them, making her presence known, "I found what we need. Dru will really like this one," she said cheerfully.

Spike spun around at the sound of Elizabeth's voice, "It's not what it looks like!"

The women glanced up to see a young woman join their circle and smiled. "Oh, that must be his wife," one of them said to the other.

"How lucky for her to have such a doting husband. My own doesn't even care to engage with our children like he does," another responded.

"It seems you are playing with a little girl. That is nothing to be defensive about," Elizabeth said with a good natured smile, obviously amused.

"Hey," Spike replied rather sharply- though he was balancing the doll in his lap rather thoughtfully, "I have you know that is exactly what is _not_ happening. I was ambushed," he explained.

Elizabeth chuckled, "Yes, what a fierce army this is. Even Her Majesty's guard would not stand a chance."

The little girl walked up to Elizabeth rather tentatively and peered up at her, "Would you also like to join our tea party?" she asked in French, her doll snugged up tight against her chest and beneath her chin.

Leaning down to her level, Elizabeth looked to her apologetically, "I'm sorry, little one, but we must be going." She stood back up as she shifted the packages in her arms.

"All right," the girl simply replied, turning on her heel and quickly returning to Spike.

Surprised to hear her speak French, one of the ladies spoke from across the table, "And how old is your little one?"

Glancing down, Elizabeth silently sighed.

Even though her arranged marriage did not appeal to her, she had always wanted to have a little family of her own one day. Now, she would not get the chance.

"These are for a family friend," she explained in French, glancing back up at the woman, "I do not have any children."

"Ah, I apologise for the misunderstanding," the woman replied in kind. "In due time," she nodded over her teacup.

Elizabeth turned towards her sire, "We should be going," she said before she began to walk away.

"Already on it," Spike quickly responded. Standing, he handed the doll back to the girl, "So long, little Dru." Picking up the parasol, he followed his progeny out.

┼†‡

They returned to their homestead some thirty minutes later, having plenty of time before afternoon tea to decorate the parlour for a young girl's birthday party.

"Well," Spike sighed as he set down the packages, "suppose we should get to it, then."

With a nod, Elizabeth set to work. Taking the ribbons she had picked up from the linen shop, she laid out long soft pink, blue, and white strands across the table in a chequered pattern. More were suspended from the chandelier above, a great height she wasn't able to reach by herself. With the help of her stubborn sire climbed atop the tabletop, it was managed, but not without much persuasion. This resulted in the appearance of a tented configuration to dance above where Elizabeth had the ends tied to four candle holders she had strategically arranged below on the table. Under this, she prepared a little tea service for the dolls and placed the other wrapped presents by the edge of the table.

Spike gave a nod of approval, "Appears well and done. I'll go and see about how Dru's faring." He stepped out shortly after.

Elizabeth smiled at their work and seated herself in a chair as she waited for the pair to return. In the silence of the large and empty room, she began to hum to herself, allowing her eyes to stray to the gilded patterns on the wallpaper. The melody she carried grew softer, till it had all but trailed off into the silence she was already surrounded with. Her eyes continued to stare vacantly at the wallpaper, but the only warmth that they carried was from the flicker of candlelight by her side.

┼†‡

It had been an hour before Spike returned to the parlour with Drusilla on his arm. The two lovers whispered and giggled into each others' ears as they walked in. Held tightly within Drusilla's grasp was Miss Corine, its once immaculate face now drawing a deeply etched crack from the chin across to the temple. Spike carried Miss Edith, respectively.

Drusilla's eyes lit up when she noticed the setting and let out a surprised gasp, "Oh! Everything is so lovely!" her voice was breathless.

Elizabeth smiled and walked over, "I'm glad you like it, grandmother," she said as she hugged her.

"As per your instructions, my love. Had to have it perfect for you," Spike smiled lovingly at Drusilla.

"Ohh, and she's even got her own tea set," Drusilla moved to it and sat her doll down on the table in front of one of the cups. "Now she won't have to steal sips from my teacup," she smiled as she glanced up at her lover. "Come, Miss Edith, join your sister here at the table," she motioned with open arms for Spike to bring the other doll over. Sitting down across from the other doll, Drusilla nestled herself low against the coffee table. She perched her chin atop her folded arms as she stared happily between her make-believe friends, "Have you wished her a happy birthday, Miss Edith?" She paused, then continued, "Now, if you are all good and proper, afternoon tea shall be served."

As if on cue, Spike snapped his fingers and called out towards the open doors: " _Entrez!_ "

A couple of maids entered with a trolley in tow. They swiftly left after arranging the tea setting by the miniature one, along with it a three-tiered porcelain serving platter filled with savoury finger sandwiches, scones, and delectable sweets. There was also another dish there that was kept hidden under a cloche, until Drusilla revealed what it was.

"Pudding?" Spike asked, as it was a rather unusual thing to see served at afternoon tea; he was seated on the sofa adjacent to where Drusilla had taken to on the floor.

Elizabeth joined them and sat by Drusilla's other side.

"Yes, figgy pudding," she replied merrily, cutting a small slice onto a plate, "I made it meself," she replied, smiling up at him.

Spike's eyes widened at that, "I didn't realise you knew how to cook," he said, only now finding out about that.

"I helped to prepare most of the items," Drusilla said, busy with pouring the dolls and vampires tea. "I wanted to have a proper English tea. It's not right when you're lacking some ingredients, but I made what I could find," she replied, sounding exceptionally level and clear headed at that moment. Considering it had been some twenty odd years since Drusilla had been reborn, Spike found it surprising she had remembered how to put a meal together. He watched her quietly as she doted on the two sitting figures on the table, petting their hair and stirring their tea for them, the maternal instincts common for a mother or elder sister to express.

Spike stirred some milk and sugar into his tea as well, "You've outdone yourself, pet. I'm sure everything here tastes marvellous," he smiled, helping himself to a scone. Pulling it apart, he spread some butter and apricot jam on top before taking a small bite, only to immediately have the morsel fall out of his mouth after a of couple chews. "Oh, God-" he moaned, quickly taking a sip of tea to clear his palate. He cleared his throat after he swallowed, "Dru, what exactly did you put in the scones?"

"The same things I've always put in 'em- flour, milk, butter, salt- and I decided an addition of currants would be nice," she stated.

Spike pulled out one of the dark specks embedded in the scone, holding it up to his face to inspect it, "Drusilla, these are cloves," he looked to her as she stared back at him blankly, "currants and cloves are wildly different things."

Elizabeth had quietly been sipping her tea throughout this, but she couldn't set her cup down fast enough as she tried to stifle her laughter at the back of her throat.

"Are you going to yell at me like they did in the kitchen?" her voice took on a childish mewl as she raised a defensive shoulder and clutched at her chest. "They make no difference to me. The kitchen maids were so unkind," she frowned, looking sad. "I cannot understand French," she pouted.

"I-it's fine, love," he sighed. He put another piece of it into his mouth and forced himself to swallow, "See?"

Drusilla smiled happily up at him and turned back to her dolls.

Spike's expression immediately dropped when she looked away and took another gulp of tea, then glanced to Elizabeth and silently shook his head as a means of warning. "Um, which of the other items did you personally prepare?" he asked.

"The tarts and figgy pudding," she replied. "Why?"

"Just want to give credit where it is due," he smartly answered, now happy to avoid those few as he decided to pick up one of the more savoury items. However, since she had given the help instruction on how to properly prepare an English tea, the other items might not have been safe from Drusilla's heinous acts of cooking. He mildly held the point within his fingers before settling it down on his plate.

Elizabeth picked up a sandwich herself and took a bite of it as she turned to glance at Drusilla.

Spike paused to watch Elizabeth's reaction. Not noticing her making any distressed facial expressions or upchucking the small sample she had consumed, he had surmised that the sandwiches were safe to eat, and proceeded to take a bite for himself. He paused as he chewed thoughtfully, then, giving a curt nod, had concluded that the sandwich was good.

"Have a slice of pudding, love," Drusilla began to cut him a slice.

"Ah… no need to worry, I can help myself," Spike's eyes widened slightly as he watched her plate the said item.

She handed him the dark cake, fork and all, and smiled happily, "I'm happy to serve you, William," she said before turning back to hold a shortbread cookie to Miss Corine's mouth.

"How about you open the gifts we got for you?" Spike made a little indication towards the packages that Elizabeth had personally picked, hoping to dodge another bullet.

"Gifts?" the eldest of the three gasped, clapping her hands excitedly in front of her face as she looked to the small pile of wrapped presents. "Such a treat! Miss Corine was not expecting gifts," she smiled happily.

"I do hope she likes them," Elizabeth smiled happily.

Drusilla pulled the presents close next to her and propped Miss Corine into her lap. With her legs splayed on either side and bending her body slightly forward, she tore into the packages like a child on Christmas morning. She gasped again, thrilled to see miniature costume dresses for her dolls to change into. One, a frilly white ball gown with embroidery sewn along the hems and sleeves; another was a dark plum colour, with a high collar and puffed at the shoulders; there was another that was a summer's dress with floral print; and one that was so blue, it could have been cut from the sky. Along with the tiny garments were some added accessories- a tiara, hairpieces, brooches, and other jewellery, as well as some shoes for their feet. With each new item that Drusilla pulled from the package, she gasped ecstatically.

She held a dress up to Miss Corine's body as she admired it from above, "I cannot wait to have her try these pretty new dresses," she squealed. Turning to Elizabeth, she smiled brightly and clutched at her hand, "Thank you, granddaughter, Miss Corine truly loves these gifts you got her."

Elizabeth beamed like a little girl being praised by her mother, "I am glad you like them."

Spike's eyes widened, stiffening in his seat as it was clear Drusilla knew who had actually been the one to contribute to her impromptu party. "Well… I was there in the shop with her," he began, trying to divert some of the credit to himself.

"Silly Willy," Drusilla giggled, "you managed to find your way to Alice's and the Mad Hatter's table, didn't you?"

"Not purposefully," Spike replied a little glumly, picking a bit at the pudding with his fork then hesitantly put it to his mouth. His eyes widened in surprise, learning that it had actually turned out favourably.

"Of… course I did not know what colours to pick. William helped me with that," Elizabeth said with a fleeting glance to her sire. Taking another sip of her tea, she hid the smile as she recalled the scene of him seated at the tea party with the circle of women and little girl. It would be a memory she would not soon forget.

"Is that true, William?" Drusilla turned to look at Spike, catching the male with the fork in his mouth.

Slowly pulling the fork out, Spike glanced over at Elizabeth as he chewed, then looked back to Drusilla, "Would she lie to you? Never heard the girl do that of her own volition; she doesn't even know how to lie."

He lied.

Drusilla held a hand over her chest, "You always knew what lay in my heart."

┼†‡

Afternoon tea had come to an end by the time the tea had cooled.

Spike found the pudding to be quite a surprising treat that he had helped himself to another slice, though was cautious about the other items Drusilla had prepared.

With the early evening now greeting them, the elder female took to putting away her gifts, leaving sire and progeny alone.

"Not sure why you did that," Spike began, finishing up the last bits of pudding crumbs on his plate, "clearly I had no clue as to what to do or get her, so why tell Dru that was my brilliant idea? If you're fishing for a compliment, I'm not giving you one," he replied, glancing to Elizabeth, "I'm just glad she's happy, is all."

Elizabeth stood from her seat, "I have seen how you look at her, how much you care for her; sometimes things may go unpraised. You work so hard to have your love for her known, and that is something I do not wish to take away from you. And so, with that… the credit lies with you," she said with a smile.

As she left the room, Spike's eyes followed after her as he felt the effects of her words. She had been keenly observant to have been so confident to claim those things. It was true, Spike would go to lengths just to please Drusilla, to show and express the extent of his love. And even though he knew that she loved him- in her own special way- she wasn't always appreciative with his efforts. At times, it seemed as though she much preferred Angelus to him- a wound to his heart that would partially heal, only to have the scabs picked at again.

The vampire's thoughts were interrupted when Drusilla returned to the parlour, asking for Spike to help put 'her girls' to bed.

Picking up Miss Corine, Spike glanced over the thing as he turned it over in his hands. Its human brown hair hung limply and the round glass blue eyes stared back at him vacantly. Even though he was a terrifying creature of the night, Spike still found something unsettling about those dolls.

┼†‡

They perched the two sisters back on top of the vanity, Drusilla taking care to smooth out wrinkles in their clothes and untangling knots in their hair.

"She's so lonely," she said absently, her back turned to Spike.

"Not anymore," Spike took a step towards his lover from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, "that's why you've got a new mate for her," he rested his chin on Drusilla's shoulder.

Drusilla reached up to caress the side of his face, "Not Miss Edith, William," she began, peering up at him, "Elizabeth."

Spike let loose a small sigh as his progeny's name was brought up, "She's fine. Taken up in the library as usual. She's a complete bookworm; she loves being alone in there."

"Let's bring her out tonight," Drusilla continued.

"She probably doesn't want to be disturbed with all that reading she has to do," Spike said, feeling adverse to the idea of having her join them on their prowl.

"William," Drusilla turned around to face him and pouted, "you're her father-"

"Please, don't say that-" Spike interjected, not wanting to be reminded of their lineage.

"She's a part of our family now," Drusilla carried on without pausing, "I have yet to see her hunt. I would like to do that with her." Still frowning, Spike reluctantly gave in to Drusilla's whims, unable to resist her large and persistent doe eyes- as well as her coaxing and wandering hands, and her body pressed against his.

"All right," he sighed, "she can come."

Drusilla instantly perked up and beamed a happy and bright smile. Pulling herself from his embrace, she took to donning a pair of gloves and affixed her cape.

"But," Spike took a step forward, "just for tonight- to see how well things fare. We're not making it routine to have her there all the time."

"Of course," Drusilla smiled at him as she headed out the door.

Spike merely sighed and followed out after her, unsure if any of what he had said had registered in her mind.

┼†‡

Elizabeth was seated in her little nook by the window as she read the book she held in her lap. With her time spent in the company of her sire and Drusilla, she worried that she had missed the opportunity of Angelus' return. Surely he would have left a note behind, she thought. On a chance that he had yet to return, she waited for him in the dimly lit room.

Skipping into the vast library, Drusilla cupped a hand around her mouth and began to whisper loudly, "Granddaughter! We've come to fetch you for this evening."

Spike silently walked behind her, allowing her to do the inviting.

Elizabeth lowered her book and glanced up, hearing Drusilla before she was made visible, "You have?" she smiled as she marked the page with Angelus' drawing and looked back up at the pair.

Drusilla skipped towards her like a schoolgirl, her hands clasped in front as she beamed, "Yes, off and away on an adventure. Would you like to come?"

Spike looked less interested as he turned his attention elsewhere, gazing at some far away book that looked infinitely more captivating.

Elizabeth placed her book aside and stood to face Drusilla. It was a lovely invitation she did not want to turn down. Perhaps she could spend time with Angelus tomorrow night. "I would like that very much," she said with a giggle at the other woman's excitement.

The elder female hooked her arm through Elizabeth's, pulling her close to her side as they moved forward, "Where shall we go on this fine night? We could make a game of it before havin' a nibble," Drusilla suggested, turning to glance at her.

"Don't bother," Spike said, following behind, "she's rather picky when it comes to her food. Only selects a choice few- slightly prejudiced, I'd say," he sighed.

"Don't be silly, William," Drusilla replied in kind, "our little dovey 'ere's got her own tastes, as we all do," she glanced behind at him, "don't we?"

Spike merely shook his head and sighed as he got the door for them.

"We've always had fun at the docks," Spike suggested, helping Drusilla up into the carriage. "Haven't explored the tracks, yet," he hoisted himself in after lending a helping hand to Elizabeth. "What would you like tonight, love?" he looked across where Drusilla had situated herself close to her granddaughter.

Drusilla turned to Elizabeth and smiled, "Your choice, lovey, it is your treat."

"The docks may be a good idea. Sailors may fare promising," Elizabeth said softly. When it came down to it, Elizabeth put as much talent into killing as she did her playacting- playing the role of a helpless girl and waiting for the right person to accost her. Like a hungry fly to the trap, they chose her just as much as she chose them.

"We're going to have such a grand time," Drusilla grinned, giving Elizabeth's arm a squeeze.

Spike did not share his lover's enthusiasm, he merely glanced at the two girls as they continued to bond.

Silently watching on, Spike was still a little confused about Drusilla's hot and cold temperament concerning Elizabeth. He really could not decide when she was in a doting or vengeful mood- he honestly had never seen her behave in that way before. He had thought to approach the subject on the night of the party, but he had been too upset about her abandoning him that he had forgotten about it altogether. There were no other opportunities or need for him to broach the subject now, considering she had seemed to forgive whatever it was that Elizabeth had wronged her for. For the time being, it was clear she was being maternal- though for how long, he could not tell.

┼†‡

They had reached the port some many minutes later, a different area from the one that Drusilla and Spike had visited the night before. The vampire might have been reckless, but he still took a little care to space out their feeding grounds to reduce suspicion. Not far from where the boats were docked was a little tavern, like a little shining beacon to lead the weary sailors and fishermen to shore; music could be heard emanating in the distance.

"'Appears the boys have all clocked off for the night," Spike walked forward, glancing to the empty vessels that bobbed with the tiny current of the ocean. "You think there'll be a piano in this one, too?" he grinned to Drusilla.

"Only one way to find out," she responded, looking more thrilled at the aspect. "Come now, granddaughter, the fun is just about to begin," she chirped merrily, pulling the younger female along with her.

"I would like to go on my own, grandmother, just for a moment. They come to me easier when I am alone," Elizabeth smiled as she whispered in Drusilla's ear. She would never admit to it, but there was an excitement to it all, not knowing who was going to come at her and when.

"Of course, granddaughter, whatever works in your favour," Drusilla gave her a small pat on the shoulder, then swooped her arm through Spike's. "Come, now, William, let's not be in the way of granddaughter's meal. They're shy," she pushed him aside.

He didn't have much time to say much of anything but walked with Drusilla, only to glance back over his shoulder at Elizabeth as she stood idly in the growing distance.

Just as they left her, the look in Elizabeth's eyes changed to one that was calm and vacant. Walking aimlessly with her hands folded neatly in front of her, she hummed softly to gather just enough attention to herself. It was an unfolding scene of a pretty girl walking alone on the dark docks, a very unwise decision for any woman, but Elizabeth welcomed the undesired results. Having done this many times before, she was confident with her actions, and this location would make little difference, she thought.

┼†‡

The pair were settled away at a good distance, not noticeable in the safe cloak of darkness, but still close enough for them to have a clear view of Elizabeth's pending performance. And because of their heightened senses, they were still within earshot, in case any possible words were exchanged. They were, in a sense, spectators for a perfect performance under the stars.

Deciding he'd make himself more comfortable, Spike took a seat on a felled log, allowing his open lap a more suitable seat for his lady.

"I'm excited to see granddaughter at play," Drusilla snuggled close to Spike's body as her forehead pressed to his cheek and her arms snaked around his waist.

"Not like it's her first time," Spike also had a firm hand anchored at her waist and his other loosely draped over her lap as she kicked her feet in the air, "she's had plenty gallivanting around with Angelus."

Drusilla turned to look at him, "Why, William, do I detect a trace of jealousy?" she swirled a dainty, gloved finger along his cheek, then poked him on the end of his nose.

Spike blinked, "Of course not. Why the bloody hell would I be jealous?" he scoffed. "A bloody favour is what he's doing, taking her off my hands," he gave a nod as he looked to where Elizabeth appeared to be strolling.

Drusilla gave a small shrug and smiled up at him, "I won't tell if you don't wish me to." Turning her head, she rested it against his shoulder as she took the time to enjoy the scenic view. "Quick, a juicy cock struts her way," Drusilla indicated, looking to see a tall male swaggering from the tavern, back towards the docks.

With the way he walked, it was apparent that the man was drunk. Standing at a towering six feet and four inches, not only was he a man of intimidating height, but he also had the musculature of a beast- a barrelled chest, arms, thick and sinewy, and legs like tree trunks. People wouldn't dare to raise a voice in his presence unless they had an early death wish.

"This'll prove interesting," Spike commented, wondering if the man would actually have the will to approach Elizabeth in his stupor.

The man was dressed in typical naval fare: navy blue V-front suit with matching pants; a striped shirt of white and a lighter blue revealed beneath it; heavy soled boots; and a white hat, similar to a beret, but with an altered brim, widened to fit snuggly around the crown of his head.

He stumbled with his footing. Almost losing his balance, he quickly recovered and laughed it off as he muttered illegible things under his breath. As he drew farther from the tavern, he noticed a lone girl timidly walking towards him.

"Eh, are you lost, girl?" his French was slurred as he squinted in the dark. "Would you like some company?" he laughed as he neared her.

Elizabeth slowed in her steps, but she remained silent and kept her head bowed.

The pair of vampires watched on. Though deaf to the language, it was clear to them with the man's actions what he meant and intended to do.

The sailor stepped in front of the nonresponsive girl and dipped his head forward as he tried to peer at her face, "Oh ho ho," he laughed, "you're a very pretty one. You must hear that often. What are you doing here all alone? Were you waiting for a handsome sailor to rescue you?" he smirked, his bloodshot eyes wandering over her body.

With him in her path, Elizabeth was forced to look up at him. The man was large, much larger than she was used to hunting, but she shook the thought from her mind. "I… I am- I was wandering the city a-and became lost," she stuttered.

"Perhaps I could help you find your way," his fingers ran lightly against the side of her arm and trailed up to her hair.

"I-I can see the main road, now. I should be going," she said as she attempted to walk around him.

He stepped in front of her path once again, blocking her from moving forward, "Eh, eh, eh, why are you in such a hurry? The road will always be there, but my time here is temporary," he smirked. "How about I show you around on my quarters? Hmm?" towering over her, he leaned towards her face. The smell of alcohol was strong on his breath, the stench of it seeming to cling fast to his clothes. "You smell pretty," he sniffed, arms wrapping around her small waist and jerking her close towards him. "It's been a long while since I've been in the company of a pretty lady. Come join me. I insist."

Elizabeth shook her head and pretended to look frightened, "N-no, thank you. The hour grows late. I-I should be going," she said as she struggled to get out of his hold.

The man laughed, "A stubborn one, I see. Not to worry," he hoisted her up easily within his arms and stumbled forward towards the vessel in the near distance, "I've always liked a good challenge. You'll soon change your mind when you feel the ocean beneath you."

A brief look of panic flitted across Elizabeth's face. She had to think fast. The ship might have been a private enough setting, but he was quite strong, stronger than any prey she had before. She needed to let him take her on board first.

┼†‡

"Smart of you to not put up a fight, girl," the man laughed as he carried her in his arms, almost as though she were a ragdoll.

Elizabeth played the part of a frightened young woman well as she waited for him to put her down.

"I see you've already accepted your fate. Not to worry, dear, I can make this just as enjoyable for you as it will be for me- if you let me," he smirked.

He happened to stumble onto the platform of the ship, eagerly pushing forward as he ducked down into the lower crew's quarters. Pushing open a small door to a narrow room, he ducked once more to enter before tossing Elizabeth onto one of the cots.

She quickly flipped onto her back and peered up at him with large eyes.

"We're alone now. I don't care so much if you scream here," he chuckled, anchoring his hands down by her sides as he loomed over her, "I rather much prefer a vocal woman in bed." He found the shape of her thigh through the layers of her skirts and squeezed it as he pressed his body against her small frame, and brought his face to the nook of her neck.

Elizabeth began to struggle much to his frustration and drunken amusement, battering him with alarmingly strong fists.

The chuckling that rumbled from his throat quickly transformed into grunts of impatience and even growing pain. He gave a low growl as he grabbed onto her wrists and glared into her eyes, a look that glinted a sort of sadistic triumph that he still had the upper hand.

Locked in his grip, Elizabeth forcefully kneed him in the side. With the added drunken state that he was in, it allowed her the little leverage to flip him over onto his back. She switched into her other face and loomed over him just as he had moments before, but rather than the shock, fear, and pleading for mercy she had expected from him, an iron grip came to her hips, and she soon found herself sailing across the small room.

Her back slammed against the wall.

As Elizabeth sank to the floor, her mind went back to the time when she had fought against her sire in the church. Rage and shock followed her pain as she slid back up. With slightly stiffened movements, she rushed forward and attacked like the predator she was, trying hard to match each blow the man gave as he defended himself against the monster he had dragged into the room.

This time, Elizabeth was thrown to the side of the nightstand. She yelped in pain as a lantern fell at the impact and shattered when her head crashed against it. Clenching her eyes shut, she felt a searing and steady pain grow on her cheek and the back of her neck. She opened her eyes to a blurry vision as anger consumed her. Summoning all the strength that she had, she kicked the back of the man's retreating leg as he turned to leave the room.

Like a heavy sack of grain, he plummeted down face first to the floor.

Elizabeth straddled his back like a prized and grunting hog. She snatched the hat off his head, and with her fingers gripped in his hair, she yanked his head back hard before sinking her teeth into his neck.

There came a shrill peep of a giggle from behind the partially closed door. Then, very slowly, the door creaked open, revealing the two other vampires standing in the doorway.

"Oh!" Drusilla gasped, her fingers steepled in front of her mouth as she looked on at the scene of her granddaughter, demonic, as she fed off the lumbering man. "My sweet, naughty girl," she cooed. Moving forward, the skirts of her dress swayed before stopping short in front of the downed man, "Showing your true colours now, are we?" she smiled, bending at her waist as she looked to Elizabeth. She tsked, "Such an eager bird, trying to roost in the chicken coop at the wrong time of day." She wagged a finger at the dead sailor, "Shame on you. Roosters don't crow at night. Granddaughter has made a fine coq au vin out of you."

Spike followed Drusilla and stood close behind her, given the constricting quarters they were in. "Huh, guess you've got more in you than I thought," Spike raised his brows slightly as he peered down at the man and turned his head at an inquisitive angle.

As Elizabeth took the last pulls of the man's blood, she felt the presence of her sire and grandsire, but the sound of their voices were muffled. With her eyes lifted to them, they appeared but a haze. She released her grip on the dead man and barely heard the audible crack of his skull as he fell forward to the floor.

"I always felt that darkness bubbling underneath our little dovey," Drusilla smiled at her grandprogeny, a look of pride on her face as she extended a helping hand to her.

Taking Drusilla's hand, Elizabeth stood to her feet. Her blue eyes blinked blankly at the scene around her, till the fog dropped from her mind like a veil. In that instant, reality rushed back to her, along with her senses.

"So full and warm now," Drusilla pressed the side of head to hers as she hugged her and sighed. She turned to face her, "Could go about seeing that scratch." Holding Elizabeth's face within her grasp, Drusilla leaned forward and licked at her weeping wound. With the blood cleared, it appeared to be a thin line that stretched only an inch across the apple of her cheek, just below her left eye.

Elizabeth blinked a couple of times in response before the timidity returned to her eyes.

"Might mistake you for Miss Corine," Drusilla giggled. She turned on her spot and placed her hand into Spike's awaiting palm, "Now, let's go see about that piano player," she chirped loudly, laughter bubbling out of her mouth.

As her adrenaline began to ebb, the pain returned to the areas where Elizabeth was struck. She directed her gaze to her elders, only to flinch as the searing pain it inflicted on the back of her neck. It was with that that she became aware of the possibility that there were embedded glass shards in her wound, as well as the cut on her face. Rather than tend to the shards, she hid her injuries by pulling at her ribbon and allowing her hair to drape down over it.

┼†‡

She followed her sires off the vessel with a slight limp. Reaching Drusilla, she gave her a warm hug, "I'm happy you invited me, grandmother, but I fear the man has taken up more of my energy than I expected," Elizabeth whispered by her ear with a slight giggle to her voice, as though the fight she had previously engaged in excited her. "I'll leave so that you two may enjoy the evening in each other's company."

Turning to face her, Drusilla flicked off some of the loose debris that lay present on Elizabeth's shoulder, "Won't you rest your weary legs in the warm glow of the tavern?" the elder persisted as she smiled softly. "There's nothing more but to enjoy the evening with your grandmummy and father."

Elizabeth smiled at Drusilla before stiffening her back with the title she gave her sire.

"Ugh, please, don't," Spike groaned as he put a hand to his face.

Glancing down with a brief and sour look, Elizabeth only managed a partial smile as she gave a curt nod, "I will stay with you, grandmother. It is a rather nice night, after all," she stood close to Drusilla with a little discomfort.

With a pat to her hand, Drusilla looked to her lovingly, "We shall make the most of tonight, love."

┼†‡

The three vampires stepped into the tavern.

With the youth on her arm, Drusilla peered around her at the lively and dim atmosphere, finding a slew of fishermen, sailors, barmaids, and some lingering locals. "I do hope we're not late for the party," she grinned, her eyes wide with excitement at the rowdiness.

Spike followed behind them, glancing to his side to see familiar drunkards and lewd men grabbing barmaids to their laps, only to have the women playfully laugh it off as if it were nothing. "Lovely to see what society's been reduced to," he quipped, taking Drusilla's other free hand.

"Yes, isn't it wonderful?" Drusilla replied dreamily.

As the three moved forward, the men there raised their heads to glance at them as they passed. Seeing strange upperclassmen in a more secluded and working class area was rare, but it was obvious with the way that they were dressed that they were tourists.

The three managed to find a little area at the bar with two vacant stools, Spike opting to stand by Drusilla as the two ladies sat.

Sitting down, Elizabeth was reminded of the time they spent together in the Underworld Exhibition before they could make their way to Nice.

" _Trois_ _bières, s'il vous plaît_ ," Spike looked to the barkeeper, raising three fingers up to indicate the exact number of beers he had requested. The man looked to him with a blank stare, moving idly to the side to pause from polishing his mugs to fill three with the frothy beverage. Spike turned around and leaned back against his elbows, merely observing what kind of environment they had entered.

There were three men that had taken it upon themselves to provide some form of entertainment- one playing a flute, another a large drum, and the third, a squeezebox. The sound of the last item was very distinct; it wasn't so loud, but had a quality that could be overheard over even the loudest of brawling men. It was this unique sound that they had heard playing from the distance.

"So, no piano," Spike noted, brows slightly raised.

Glancing around, Elizabeth gave a curious look as he made mention of this, but thought it best not to ask.

"We can always makedo with the squeezebox, love," Drusilla peered at him with a smile.

The mugs of beer were brought down in front of them then and Spike picked one up happily, gulping down two large mouthfuls before wiping off the froth from his face with his sleeve.

Elizabeth giggled in amusement as she watched her sire. It was nice to see him like this and not in his usual cold and dismissive state.

"What games did you have in mind to start off the evening, love?" Spike turned to Drusilla and patiently waited for her to reply.

She paused briefly before tilting her head, "'Knickers and Bloomers'?" she said in a soft and distant voice.

"Maybe not with the company we have," Spike darted a glance at Elizabeth and took another sip. Having another join them on their outings meant they would have to alter their usual activities, especially considering it was his progeny.

Elizabeth watched the exchange between the two. At his acknowledgement, she tilted her head, slightly surprised that he didn't sound annoyed or hold any disdain in his voice- but it wasn't a tone she would mistake for concern either. Elizabeth found it interesting to watch the two interact at times, how the elder female had such a profound effect on her sire's very personality.

"'Voyeur' has always been a fast favourite," Drusilla hummed. "It's been a while since we've played 'Kill, Drink, or Shag'."

"Perhaps, not tonight," Spike took another gulp, remembering that the last time he had played that with Elizabeth had left him in a foul mood.

Drusilla turned to look at her partner and pouted, "You don't seem to be very accommodating on this night out, William, turning down every suggestion and whim."

"Not intentionally, sweet, just… we've got another one our hands; it's not just the two of us, now," he said gently.

"Elizabeth won't scare so easy," Drusilla turned to her granddaughter, "will you, dear?" She requested a deck of cards from the barkeeper and started to shuffle them, "Cards, then?" She peered at the two of them, "'Irish Poker'," her smile grew wider.

"That wouldn't be much of a fair game, would it? You already know what each card is before they're revealed," Spike frowned.

Drusilla giggled and gave a small shrug, "Can't be unfair when it can't be controlled," she teased. "If you're feeling intimidated, William, I can just let the two of you play," she suggested.

Elizabeth chuckled a bit to herself, "It might make you feel better knowing I don't know how to play," she said with a smile and a quirked brow. As arrogant as her sire was, this side of him was so amusing and refreshing to see.

"It's pretty simple, really," Spike took another sip of his beer and set it down. "There are two rounds. The first round, you're dealt four cards. You need to guess what the answer is, depending on the question."

"Red or black," Drusilla added.

Spike nodded and continued, "That's the first card. Second one: whether it's higher, lower, or the same as the first card. Third: if the value ranges between the two previous cards, it's 'in', if it's not, it's 'out'. If you guess it might have the same value as one of either cards, you can call it 'same'. And the last one, you guess the suit. If you answer correctly on each round," he lifted his mug and tilted it to her, "you 'give' a drink; meaning, you get to get someone else to drink. If you answer incorrectly, you 'take' a drink," he took another gulp, then set the mug back down. "And since we're the only two playing, it should be pretty clear who to 'give' that drink to. Got it?"

Drusilla smiled and glanced between them, "Shall we begin?"

Elizabeth looked a little nervous, but did not wanting to embarrass herself. Not opposed to the bonding with her new family, she decided having a little fun would help to distract her mind off her pain. "All… right. I am certain I understand," she said with a little nervous laugh.

Drusilla dealt their first cards, leaving them face-down. "Red or black?" she glanced between the two of them. "You first, granddaughter."

Elizabeth glanced down before looking back up at her sire, "Black."

Drusilla flipped her card over to reveal it was the six of spades. She laughed giddily, "You've got to drink, William," she sang.

Spike shrugged a shoulder as he brought his drink to his lips, "Not like that's a bother, I was looking to get piss drunk."

"Red or black, love?" Drusilla said to him.

Spike finished his pint, "Red," he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

This time, the card was revealed to be the two of hearts.

"Ha!" he laughed, dragging the mug towards his progeny. "Drink up, love," he smirked.

Clasping the mug in her grasp, Elizabeth drank the beer down with some difficulty. It took a few minutes before she had emptied it, but when she had, she looked determined and ready for the next round.

Drusilla dealt their second cards, and like the first time, held them face-down. "Higher, lower, or same as the first card?" she asked Elizabeth.

Spike pressed his cheek to his palm and grinned at Elizabeth expectantly, waiting to see whether her prediction would be correct or not- he did look forward to seeing her drunk and unruly.

Elizabeth looked at the card and took an unneeded breath. She would be lying if she said the look on her sire's face did not make her nervous. After a moment, she exhaled, "Lower."

Drusilla smiled at Elizabeth as she turned the card- it was the Jack of spades. Elizabeth's face dropped.

"Ha!" Spike cackled. "Another drink for this one, right 'ere!" he jabbed a finger in the air in her direction.

"William?" Drusilla looked to him as she waited for his response.

"Higher," he replied, his gaze unwavering as he stared at his progeny.

The card was revealed to be the four of spades.

Spike sniggered as he pushed another frothy mug of beer for Elizabeth to drink, in addition to the one that she had to down for her own misprediction.

Elizabeth grimaced as she pressed the mug to her lips; she drank with greater difficulty than before. What was worse for the girl was that even in life she rarely drank at all except at family parties. When she finally finished, she held her head up with a little hiccup.

The third cards were dealt. "Will the value be within the first two cards or out, granddaughter? Or perhaps, it might be the same as one of the already drawn cards?" Drusilla asked, her fingers placed lightly above the card.

Elizabeth slightly bowed her head as she looked down, hoping that she would be right this one last time. Resting her head in her palm, she answered softly: "Out."

Drusilla let out a little giggle and turned the card over- it was the nine of clubs.

Spike threw his head back and laughed once more, "Good God, you're bloody terrible at this game!" he snorted, pushing another beer towards her.

Drusilla glanced over her shoulder to her lover, "And you, William? In, out, or the same?"

"Huh," Spike glanced down and raised his brows a little quizzically, "I'm feeling a wee bit left out, not being able to consume any beer. Let's say 'in', just so I can quench a bit of my thirst," he grinned.

Drusilla's smile broadened as she turned the card over, revealing it to be the four of hearts.

Spike's eyes widened at that, "What? No!" he said incredulously, rather upset at the unbelievable outcome that he had actually gotten a card within that narrow margin. "Dru, are you feeding us cards?" he looked to her suspiciously with narrowed eyes.

She giggled, "I'm only following what the cards tell me, love." This time, she nudged the beer towards Elizabeth, "Just a sip, granddaughter. No need to drown all your sorrows in one fell swoop."

As advised, Elizabeth sipped at her drink. She held her head from time to time until she settled the empty mug down with a shaky hand, the weight of it now feeling too heavy. Returning to her more habitual quiet ways, Elizabeth's urge to leave for the manor only increased as her face flushed, and her head sat in her hands.

The last cards were finally dealt for the first round. "What suit do you think the card will be, granddaughter? Spades, hearts, clubs, or diamonds?" Drusilla swept a gloved hand underneath Elizabeth's chin.

Elizabeth slowly lifted her head to look at Drusilla. She paused, "Hmm… spades," she said after some thought before resting her head again.

Drusilla giggled again, revealing the card to be the ace of spades.

"Oh, finally! She gets one right!" Spike sighed loudly as he rolled his eyes. Without further instruction, he began to gulp, almost greedily, at his beer.

"What of you, William?" Drusilla watched him as he slowly declined his head back.

Downing the final drops of his beverage, he set the empty mug down on the counter and belched, "Clubs," he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

Drusilla turned his card over- it was the eight of diamonds.

"Oh, goody!" Spike quipped, pleased that he had gotten it wrong. He happily received another mug of beer.

Elizabeth's head sank lower out of relief as she pressed her forehead to her hands, "May we… leave soon, grandmother?" she asked in a mousy yet slurred tone.

"We haven't yet gotten things started," Drusilla smiled.

"Can't hold your liquor?" Spike scoffed. "Thought you'd have at least gotten better at that, out of all things, once you were turned," he continued. Leaning forward on an elbow, he smirked at her, "You realise, that was only round one, yeah?" he started to giggle.

The music within the tavern began to pick up, and with that, Drusilla turned her head towards the musicians, taking a keen interest in the sudden change of pace.

One of the barmaids hitched up her skirts and started to do a fast jig, kicking her feet up to either sides in tune with the rhythm of the music. She smiled at Drusilla and moved towards her, offering her hand which was warmly received as the eldest of the three stood next to her.

"Wait, Dru! We're not done playing this game, yet!" Spike's voice was drowned out with the music and rhythmic clapping.

Drusilla watched the other's feet carefully before quickly mimicking her footing.

" _Farandole!_ " someone cried out. Just as soon as that word was uttered, some other eager dancers began to link hands with the woman and began to form a chain.

"Come, join me, William!" Drusilla beckoned, her smile wide, and her laughter girlish and innocent.

"No, Dru," Spike sighed, trying to nurse his beer.

"William," her brows turned up as she took on a small pout, ultimately getting him to relent to her pleas.

"Oh, all right," he said gruffly, setting the mug down with reluctance, "but, I'm not coming alone!" he growled. Grabbing Elizabeth's hand, he tugged her into the line of people.

Elizabeth felt the room slowly turn as she was forced to her feet.

"If I'm to suffer Drusilla's insatiable desire to folk dance, you're to suffer with me," Spike said, glancing to her.

How one person could be so sadistic yet a semi-good friend was beyond her. Looking to her sire, Elizabeth tried to give him a look that could kill, but it only turned out looking like a beg for mercy.

The leader of the chain pulled them along, weaving to and fro across the space of the tavern. The ones that were familiar with this dance included extra moves to their steps, but others who merely wanted to follow, or were too leaden-footed with drink, stuck to the basics.

That was with the exception of Drusilla. A marvelously quick study, she trotted and paraded around as though she had been dancing for years. Spike held firmly to her hand, shuffling in the direction she pulled, but not with nearly the same amount of enthusiasm. His lover laughed merrily, ecstatic even, as she tossed her head, smiling to him, and looking as human as a creature of the night could.

He had to admit, her good mood was beginning to rub off on him and he had started to smile, even skipping along with more sensibility, if that were at all possible.

However, dancing was proving difficult for Elizabeth. She was even a little glad the alcohol dulled the pain in her legs and allowed her to enjoy herself for the time being.

The chain coiled closer together, till it had come into itself, then began to unfurl.

It was a very strange moment for three vampires that had entered a bar. What had been an initial plan for carnage and bloodlust unexpectedly became something jovial and spirited.

It might have been the French air, or him being even slightly drunk, but Spike was actually enjoying himself. As the chain began to change rotation and unwind from its compacted encased spiral, Spike glanced to Elizabeth with a smile that betrayed his former heckling.

Surprised to see her sire enjoy himself, Elizabeth relaxed in his company and continued to follow the direction she was pulled.

After the chain had unfurled itself, the members began to pair off, forming a tunnel with their arms, where upon the following couples had to pass through before adding to the growing length. It just so happened that Spike and Elizabeth ended up together.

Joining hands, they ducked under the canopy of limbs as Elizabeth giggled, and they pulled through unscathed on the other side. As they turned to face each other and arched their arms above their heads, Spike smiled at her wryly as his fingers interlocked with hers.

When the end of the line had passed through, and Spike and Elizabeth had again become the end pair, they passed through the human tunnel one last time, thus ending the provencal folk dance.

Laughter and clapping filled the room.

"Not so bad for a night out with vampires, is it?" Spike turned to glance at his progeny.

Pausing from her applause, Elizabeth looked to her sire and shook her head, "Not at all," she replied with a smile, "especially when you are not such a grouch," she giggled.

"Excuse me, but I believe you're mistaken," Spike raised his brows, "I'm the bloody life of the party," he placed a hand to his chest.

Drusilla giggled as she came towards them, "Wasn't that grand?" she beamed. "You've had some fun, too, haven't you, William?" she turned to him and placed her hands in his.

He gave a little sigh and glanced over at Elizabeth.

With a little smile and a giggle, she mouthed the word 'grouch'.

Spike turned back to Drusilla, "Yeah, a little," he admitted, not wanting to seem less of a threat.

"Seems you've gained another pair of eyes," Drusilla peered up at him, pressing a little closer as she lowered her voice. She turned her head then, looking across the room at one of the barmaids who was tending to a small table of men.

"Oh?" Spike followed Drusilla's gaze. Watching the woman from where he stood, she happened to raise her head at that instance to steal a glance at him. She gave him a giddy smile before she quickly turned to fetch more drinks from the bar.

"Oh, she seems shy," Drusilla cooed softly.

"I hear a dinner bell," Spike smirked. "Hmm," turning back to face his lover, he paused in thought. "But she did see us enter together, love. Don't think I'd be too convincing if I were to suddenly-"

Drusilla pre-emptively slapped him across the face.

Elizabeth took a step back at this sudden turn of events.

" _OW!_ " Spike cried. "Why the bloody hell did you do _that_ for?" his voice growing a little shrill from the shock and simmering anger.

Thinking it best to remain out of their situation, Elizabeth slowly moved back and resumed her spot on the barstool as she watched them with mild curiosity.

Drusilla put a gloved hand to her face as she tried to stifle her laughter, "Don't you want a more convincing show? If I leave in tears, you won't be burdened to stay with me. Might find a sympathetic meal, meself," she explained.

"It's not going to work, Dru-"

She slapped him again- harder this time on the other cheek; her smile only grew wider.

" _Drusilla!_ " Spike growled. "It's not believable when you're laughing so much!"

"You don't think I'm a good actress, William?" Drusilla's expression dropped, brows turning upward into a frown.

"Oh, that's good, more of that," Spike nodded. "Maybe another strike before storming off, for good measure?" he suggested.

Drusilla fought against the smile that twitched at the corner of her lips. As her lover had requested, she struck him once more, a backhand that left the male stunned.

"Bloody… sodding… bollocks…," Spike breathed between clenched teeth, a hand rubbing at his sore and reddening cheek.

Drusilla quickly covered her face with both hands to hide her laughter, masking it to sound more like an ugly sob, "William, you've broken my heart, you have!" she mock-sobbed, her voice sounding wooden and mechanical.

"Quite enough, now, love. Should take off whilst the night's still young," Spike continued to rub at his pulsing face.

Drusilla peeked between her fingers to glance at him, giggled some more, then finally pushed past him as she stormed out the doors.

"Christ, the hand on that woman," Spike breathed, still rubbing at his smarting cheek. He decided to just shrug off the pain as he straightened himself up. "Do I look presentable?" he tugged at the lapels of his coat as he turned to Elizabeth for her opinion.

Looking at him, Elizabeth slightly tilted her head to the side as her small smile grew. She nodded, "Ye- hic- …s," she said with a hiccup before flinching at the pain in her neck and on the side of her face.

"Good," he gave a curt nod, "gotta look decent when I'm to take a lady out to dinner," he laughed. Spike paused before leaving for his 'date', "Suppose you can stay put in case Drusilla returns before me. Don't think I'll be long, I'm sure," he glanced up to see the bedazzled barmaid passing close by with a much more confident smile, "seeing as we won't have much to say."

Elizabeth nodded sluggishly.

Spike looked back to Elizabeth, "But, if she gets chatty, I'll be sure to end things quickly," he smiled. Turning on his spot, he headed towards his French fille, "Wish me luck," he chuckled over his shoulder.

The barmaid was wiping down a table as he approached her. When she felt his presence, she slowed to a stop and looked up as if she were expecting him. She called to one of the other girls before turning back to the man in question, then quickly grabbed his hand to have him follow her into a back room.

┼†‡

Not five minutes had passed before Spike returned stumbling out from the back door, only to pause momentarily against the doorframe to regain his footing. He appeared to be hiding something within his coat with his right hand, as his left held it closed in an almost protective manner. With a scowl fixed on his face, and his posture a little inclined, Spike sauntered back to where Elizabeth was seated, "Where's Drusilla?" he said a little gruffly, impatience returning to his voice.

Elizabeth looked at him with raised brows with an expression that looked like curiosity and fear rolled into one. She took a quick glance around the room, "She… has not come back yet," she said in a mousy tone.

Without deliberation, Spike turned towards the door, "We're leaving. We need to find her fast," he replied simply, expecting Elizabeth to follow him.

Sensing urgency, the smaller vampire hopped off the stool and stumbled at a loss of balance before following her sire out.

Pushing past the door, they didn't need to travel far in their pursuits because Drusilla was perched on top of an empty wine barrel, not far from the tavern facade. Of course, she was not alone. With her was one of the bar patrons, looming over her as he pressed himself against her body. Though, he was not alone in his actions- Drusilla was also a very willing and eager participant. Her legs were spread apart, her arms were wrapped around his broad back, and her hands wandered the man's torso as she felt his muscles beneath his shirt. They appeared to be too enrapt with their mouths mashed up against each other and low moaning to notice the shocked and gaping male.

Watching from behind her sire, Elizabeth's face was one of shock. She understood that Drusilla was employing a tactic- a very bold tactic- but her actions were justifiable, considering what she was- what they were. Elizabeth's mixed expression soon melted into a little concern as she looked up at her sire and thought to offer him a kind word.

"Dru- _Drusilla!_ " Spike hissed, finally breaking his silence and uprooting himself from his spot.

They continued as though he hadn't spoken, even when he had trudged over and stood next to their writhing bodies.

"Dru, stop playing and eat him," he growled.

When the tongue-tied male made a shooing motion for Spike to leave, the vampire lost his patience.

Spike grabbed him by the shoulder, "'Believe you're with my woman, mate," he growled, forcing him to face him.

The man's scowl was instantly replaced by a look of shock and fear when he was met with the face of a demon. The man quickly scampered back, only to be held in place by Drusilla, her grip clasped tightly to his wrists. Peering down, he was shocked to find that the once whimpering and pretty woman had also transformed into a yellow-eyed beast. He gave a cry out as she grinned then. As he was pulled back into her embrace, she sank her jagged teeth into his neck.

Spike craned his neck and fell back into his human guise. "Took your time with that one, didn't you?" he remarked sourly as he watched his lover feed.

A dull thud resounded as Drusilla rolled the dead man away from her, "He was such a fine man," she sighed, casting a dreamy look upwards before hopping off the barrel. "Don't be jealous, Willy, he's dead, now," she said reassuringly.

Spike scowled, "Never mind that," he gave a small cough into his fist, "we need to leave."

Along with her sire's persistent urges to leave, his sudden cough was a sign for concern. Elizabeth walked forward to the two vampires, "What's wrong?" she asked, brows slightly upturned with a little worry.

"Nothing's wrong," Spike snapped.

Drusilla leaned forward and sniffed at him, "William, you're leaking," she peered up at him with round eyes.

"I'm fine," he replied.

Drusilla took a step closer towards him, "Show me, love," she said gently, placing her hand on his.

He glanced to the side, knowing well he could not persuade a vampire who had a heightened sense of smell, and reluctantly gave in to her demands. Heaving out a low sigh, he slowly opened up his coat with his guarded left hand, revealing that what he had been hiding was not some stolen artifact, but a fresh wound on his chest. His right palm pressed flat against his ribcage, an area that was dangerously close to his heart, as a large spot of red appeared to grow past the expanse of his hand.

"Oh, William," Drusilla breathed.

"'Thought London pickpockets were a threat, they dull in comparison to the likes of the bloody French," he coughed a bit more. "They'll try to tickle you with their pointy knives, reach that tender spot right between the ribcage," he coughed a little harder before swallowing. "They're killers, the whole lot of them. Tricking unsuspecting tourists, just to rob their bodies of money and loot," he surmised. "Not to worry, though, love. She meant to aim for my heart, but only pierced a lung. But, not as though I'd die or anything," he shrugged, "at least, not with metal."

"Did you make a quick meal of her?" Drusilla asked with a small pout.

"Yes, of course. Which is why we need to leave. If they find her body-"

A shrill scream came from inside.

Within seconds, one of the fellow barmaids stormed out and pointed at Spike, naming him the murderer of her friend.

"See, this is why I said we needed to leave!" he sighed with exasperation as both men and women filed out of the tavern to glare at him and the two women that were in his company.

Another barmaid screamed this time, as she pointed at the dead body that was slopped over on the ground by the wine barrel.

"Oh, that one's on Dru," Spike canted his head towards her.

This was followed immediately by a man's belligerent shouting from behind them.

"What now?" Spike sighed, seeing a man dressed in naval uniform running towards them. Taking a moment to put two and two together, he remembered, "Oh, right, almost forgot. The bloke on the boat. That one's on the mouse," he canted his head in the other direction where Elizabeth stood.

They were now surrounded by a very angry mob of people who only crept nearer and grew louder by the moment.

Elizabeth stood close to the other two vampires as she glanced fearfully around her, "What do we do now? This is no Paris," she whispered. She looked to Drusilla.

"Not to worry, granddaughter, the fun is just about to get started," Drusilla grinned, staring about her with excitement.

"Oh, bugger," Spike sighed, "I'm afraid I won't be able to give my best performance, considering the state I'm in. But, have no fear, _mes amis_ ," he gave a little sniff as he straightened himself up and pulled his hands to his sides to form fists, "this is just a minor setback. As the saying goes: 'the show must go on'," he smiled darkly. "Time to cast your morals aside, Saint Mary," Spike said to Elizabeth over his shoulder, "no time to sort out who's a killer or not. We're in the middle of a war; it's either survive, or be killed. Got it?" Spike turned around just as a man threw a suckerpunch to his face. Recovering from the blow, the vampire growled as he showed his darker facade, "Wasn't yet ready, mate."

The man gasped as he stared with wide eyes at the demon before him. Unsure of what to do, he took a step back and threw another punch, only to have his wrist get caught mid air and pulled in closer towards the demon.

"But, now I am," Spike chuckled, throwing his head back and smashing it hard against the other's. The man's eyes rolled before Spike took ahold of the sides of his head and gave it a quick twist. The body dropped like a sack of wheat at his feet, causing the onlookers to gasp as they were forced to see what they were truly faced with.

There was some confusion and screams of horror. Women and men ran back inside the safety of the tavern to bar the doors, while some of the men remained outside, believing they could fight against the likes of an unworldly creature.

Drusilla giggled darkly as she turned around to show that she was also inhuman. "And now, we begin."

Oddly taking comfort in her elders' actions, Elizabeth sighed as she closed her eyes for a brief moment and allowed her demon to shine through. Standing at Drusilla's side, the demon in her gave the normally timid girl a newfound confidence and strength. As a tall man approached her and gripped her by the shoulders, she threw him with ease, just as she did the man in the Parisian bar.

Drusilla moved with the skills of a seasoned killer. It was unusual to see someone who appeared so childish and innocent at times fight with such a sadistic sense of enjoyment. She turned a man over onto his back with the flip of his arm before pinning herself on top of his chest. As he tried to gasp for air, she slashed at his throat with her fingernails, hard and sharp like talons, before he could fill his lungs. She peered up with a small smile to her lips, bringing her bloodied fingers to sample the taste of the dying man squirming beneath her, then lunged towards the next victim that dared to flinch.

Unlike Drusilla's quiet and quick methods, Spike was more playful, more arrogant; he liked to draw out his fights just for the sake of the thrill. Though, this time, because of his little mishap, he would have to begrudgingly cut things short.

"This is more my speed," he managed to say gruffly, only to grimace as he tossed a man above his head, overstretching and adding too much stress to his wound. Being a creature with supernatural abilities without the need to breathe worked in his favour, especially with his current circumstances. Blood continued to pool out of the incision from his chest, staining the lower half of his shirt almost completely red; droplets streamed continuously downwards towards his trousers.

One of the men looked at the blood on his clothes curiously and somehow managed to throw a couple of lucky punches to his ribs. Responding like any wounded man or animal would, Spike released a low and deep-throated moan as he buckled at his waist and clutched at that tender spot. He took a brief moment to steady himself.

A look of realisation dawned on the man as he grew more confident, realising that these demons could be hurt. Pointing to the growing blood at his shirt, he turned to the others in the crowd and yelled something to them in French. The others looked to see the demon in its weakened state and came closer, their actions less hesitant, and with a confidence they had initially lacked.

Spike gave a hacking cough and spat out blood in the dirt, adding to the crimson drops that fell from his wound. He reeled back and thwarted his oncoming opponent with a backhanded fist, his temper exploding with the release of his vampire roar.

The men around him flinched at the sound, terror flickering in their eyes as they seemed unsure if they could actually defeat a demon.

Spike grinned despite the pain that wracked at his body, the dull throb lessening as the rush of adrenaline began to work its magic, "Come on, boys, don't be shy!" he chuckled.

┼†‡

For a girl her size, Elizabeth fought off her own share of attackers well. She used anything she could put to use- from her bare hands, to a piece of wood she had landed on. Having been thwarted to the ground, Elizabeth pushed herself up and saw the worsening state her sire was in. Her eyes darted over, seeing a man approaching him from behind. With all the speed that she could summon, she ran and slammed the man's head into a nearby wall before he could reach her sire.

Spike turned, just in time to see the man collapsing to the ground. He glanced to Elizabeth, realising that she had just saved him from being attacked. Not a second later, he was pulled back into battle as another heroic man heaved himself at him with flailing arms. He was especially sloppy for a drunk, not a good thing on his part, but good for the vampire. Spike caught him by the back of the shirt and helped to sail him into the same wall the other man lay victim to.

┼†‡

Drusilla swirled around the outskirts of the gang, tackling down the strays that ran from her. The number of men significantly dwindled down on account of her contribution, being that Spike was injured, and Elizabeth still lacked the skill and strength of her elders.

Spike grew more unsteady on his feet. He pressed his right hand to his wounded chest, only to have more blood ooze past his fingers like he were wringing a wet towel. At the rate he was losing blood, he was afraid he would soon lose consciousness. He gritted his teeth and shook it off, seeing only a few remaining amongst them, men that stupidly braved the fight, despite having their fellow men fall dead by their sides.

Spike grabbed a sailor by the shoulders and pummelled him a few times in the face.

Somehow, the man still remained standing, only getting knocked back a couple steps before standing his ground. He countered Spike's attacks by throwing in a few punches himself, his fist connecting to Spike's chin, momentarily leaving the vampire unguarded enough to throw another punch to his body.

No matter how much adrenaline was in the vampire, it was not enough to mask the pain of that blow. This time, Spike's vision went black, and the sounds around him dampened. It took a while before his senses slowly came back to him. First, a piercing shrill, then the muffled sounds of fighting. As his sight gradually began to clear, the darkness dissolved into a vision of Drusilla snapping the neck of the man that had assaulted him, framed in the edges of black. Spike managed to smile wryly at her before having a coughing fit. Blood splattered from his mouth this time, leaving a trickle of red down his chin.

"What a waste," he managed to utter hoarsely, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

Seeing the crowd thin as smarter men made a quick escape from the carnage, Elizabeth rushed to her sire and helped him up.

Spike draped his arm over Elizabeth's shoulder as she came to his aid, relying heavily on her much needed support as another wave of dizziness swept over him.

"Grandmother, we have to go while the mob is gone," she said, looking over at Drusilla. Finding the strength to hold both herself and her sire on their feet, Elizabeth glanced to him with a small and reassuring smile.

Lifting his head, Spike looked around them, seeing the last few strays running from the scene, and one lone and trembling soul who seemed rooted where he stood.

Drusilla was quick to the punch, spinning on her spot and running at full speed at the frightened man before tackling him down to the ground.

With the condition of her sire's wound now critical, Elizabeth could only watch Drusilla with wide and alarmed eyes.

Digging her fingers into his shoulders, Drusilla heaved the man upwards and tore into his throat with her fangs, letting loose a waterfall of blood to gush down both of their necks. She let him drop within the few seconds of his death, standing up as she withdrew a laced handkerchief from her sleeve, and cleaned up the messes on her face rather daintily. Turning, she walked back slowly towards her two companions, a pleased smile upon her demonic face.

"Good on you, love," Spike managed to say with some affection before letting loose another coughing fit. His facade shifted back to his human one, his blood and strength too far depleted to maintain that form.

Drusilla stopped mid-step when she stood before the tavern doors. She turned her head towards it before continuing her slow, menacing pace, and picked up one of the lanterns that hung by the entrance along the way, "All the chickens are nesting in their coop, now," she sang. She ran a hand over the wooden door before bringing her ear to it, "Quiet clucking," she mused, a bemused smile on her lips. Not a moment too soon, she dashed the lantern against the door. The oil dripped slick down the dry and weather-worn facade, making it excellent fuel for the flames to lick and consume it.

Drusilla continued on her path towards her weary family members, her face human, and a healthy glow dancing on her skin from the growing fire behind her. "Your flame's all but a flicker, love," Drusilla said, pulling Spike's other arm away from his soaked shirt and over her shoulders, "and you smell intoxicating," she hovered her head upwards, taking in the smell of his blood with a voice that was partial to a moan.

There were no witty comebacks from Spike as his feet gave out from beneath him.

Holding him steady, Drusilla righted him up and began to move forward, "We'll have you tucked in bed soon enough," not a look of worry seeming to mar her face.

In her silence, Elizabeth was relieved that Drusilla had returned to help her, but at the same time, found it almost infuriatingly odd that she did not seem at all worried about her sire's condition in the least. She made no remarks or indications of her thoughts as she quietly helped hold her sire upright.

Though Drusilla looked merry, she moved quickly, reaching the roads that would bring them closer inland towards higher population. Like Elizabeth, it was difficult to gauge what was going through her mind, and whether her logic was sound enough to trust and follow. For the time being, there was little time to decide.

"Ah, we've got ourselves a big pumpkin," Drusilla smiled, looking up ahead as she spotted a parked carriage by the side of the road. "Come quickly, granddaughter, or we'll be too late."

With a heaving sigh, Elizabeth nodded.

When they had reached the doors to the carriage, Drusilla stopped and turned to Elizabeth, "I'll just be a moment, lovey," she smiled as she untangled Spike's limp limb from her shoulders.

She moved away and walked to the front of the carriage. Stopping short, she looked up at the driver, a man bound by duty, who was most likely ordered by his master to wait for his return out in the growing cold.

Noticing a strange, lone woman staring up at him, he bent his head and looked to her inquisitively, "Madam?"

Drusilla lifted her hand then. With two fingers, she pointed towards her wide eyes as her unfaltering gaze pierced into his, "Look at me, dearie. Be in my eyes; be in me," she moved her fingers outwards towards his gaze, then back to hers.

Her voice was tranquil, void of inflection, hypnotic.

The man's posture slackened and his eyes grew distant. He was still, as though waiting for further instructions. Only after receiving Maurizio's address did he give a small nod before readying himself with his reigns, waiting for his new mistress and passengers to enter the caravan.

"Please hurry, grandmother. I cannot hold him much longer," Elizabeth called out as she strained under her sire's weight.

"Are we ready?" Drusilla beamed as she skipped back to her injured juniors, her demeanour playful and bubbly as though this were all a game. She threw the door open and hopped in first, hooking her hands beneath Spike's armpits to heave him in. A small giggle escaped her lips as Spike flopped over onto the carriage floor and moaned with the sudden change of position. "Come on, granddaughter, we best be on our way," she peaked over Spike's shoulder and gave a little motion with her hand.

With a small smile of relief, Elizabeth climbed inside after them.

When they had all settled inside, the carriage began to move with the sound of the door slamming.

┼†‡

Drusilla had managed to get half of Spike's body to lay across the cushions whilst his legs draped over the side. Cradling his head in her lap, she pet at his hair soothingly.

Spike trembled, "I-it's cold," his voice was barely above a whisper. He immediately gave into more coughing as red painted over his blue-tinged lips, and blood splattered into his hand.

Elizabeth looked at him with upturned brows in worry.

A cold sweat had broken across his forehead, and his skin, though pale before, was now so white, it appeared to glow in that dim lighting. "Is this how it feels to have consumption, Mother?" he moaned, his accent slipping back into the one he was raised with. Spike peered up at Drusilla, his eyes remarkably blue with the contrast of his pallor, "God, how you must suffer," he said to her, his expression pleading, his vision unfocused. It was obvious with the amount of blood loss that he was now delirious.

Elizabeth's eyes widened.

"Shh… it's all right now, sweet William," Drusilla said coaxingly, her fingers running lightly through his hair.

"I-I had a dream… it was so real," he swallowed, "I-I was insufferable," he murmured, "the things I did… and to you… were unforgivable," his mumbling was interspersed with coughing and an audile rattle could be heard with each breath he drew. "It wasn't me there, Mother… I only wished to make it- to make it… stop," a small sob bubbled from his lips as he clutched at the back of Drusilla's arm and he rolled his face towards her body.

Though he had mistaken Drusilla for his mother under his delirium, Elizabeth began to wonder about her sire's previous life. Was he just spouting nonsense because of the blood loss? Or was the truth of his past coming out in his weakened state?

"Shh, shh… no more words, William," Drusilla repeated, pressing a finger to his blood-stained lips. "Shall I sing us a song, then?" she smiled down at him.

Spike stared back with glassy eyes, merely blinking in response.

" _Early one morning, just as the sun was rising / I heard a maid sing in the valley below…,_ " Drusilla sang softly all the while stroking his hair, her other hand patting him gently on the shoulder in beat with the melody.

It was the same song she had sung in the parlour, where Spike had angrily responded and demanded her to never sing. This time, however, he relaxed, letting his eyes slowly close as the addition of the rocking carriage seemed to lull him into sleep. It was difficult to discern, but without the need to breathe, he might have been dead.

Drusilla took to humming the tune after she had completed the verses. When she was certain he was unconscious, she looked out the moving window, allowing the clattering wheels and horse hooves to fill the silence.

┼†‡

Within the duration of the ride, the atmosphere within the caravan was relatively still, save for the occasional knocking of Spike's boot when they happened to take too sharp a turn, or rolled over uneven ground.

As the vehicle slowed, Drusilla began to ready herself, lifting Spike's upper body within her grasp, then swooping her other steady and braced arm beneath his legs. The door was conveniently opened by the still charmed driver, allowing Drusilla to exit without the use of her hands as she hefted Spike out with relative ease.

He lay pressed close to her chest, slightly curled inward, and appearing small and vulnerable like a napping boy.

Even throughout all of this, Drusilla made no true indication of her feelings of this whole ordeal. It was uncanny- disturbing- even for the likes of her.

"Come get the door for me, granddaughter," Drusilla glanced to Elizabeth, giving her a smile as she stood waiting.

Stepping forward, Elizabeth opened and held the door for them.

Drusilla walked in as though carrying a full grown man like a baby was something normal for her everyday life. Along with Elizabeth, the driver also followed his mistress.

Angelus stepped into the vestibule as the three drew in closer, "You're late-" He paused when he was beheld with a startling sight: Spike looked half-dead before, but now looked completely dead; Drusilla, carrying said man like a human-sized doll; Elizabeth covered in scratches and blood with frazzled hair- something that was more suitable for his dotty daughter; and a human man who looked entirely out of place. "What in God's name happened?" he looked to each of them, expecting them to give him a reasonable answer.

"We had an adventure!" Drusilla breathed, a look of excitement washing over her face.

Elizabeth looked up at Angelus as she stood there dishevelled. Following Drusilla's answer, the young woman could only nod as she put a hand to her head. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, allowing the pain and tipsiness to return.

Angelus squeezed his fingers to the bridge of his nose as he let out a weary sigh, "All right, 'an adventure', let's just leave it at t'at for the night. For now, bring William upstairs before anyone else sees you, will you, dear?" he looked to Drusilla before giving a disappointing glance down at the bundle of Spike within her arms.

"'Course, Daddy," she gave a little nod as she smiled up at him, her curls still having a surprising bounce to them.

Angelus pointed his fingers at the stranger, "And… who is this?"

"William's treat," Drusilla said as she began to climb the stairs, "for when he wakes up," she glanced a smile over her shoulder before turning back around, the meal-on-legs climbing up slowly after her.

When it was just the lone pair, Angelus looked down at Elizabeth and took a step closer, "Elizabeth, you're hurt," he said with a look of concern he had only seemed to reserve for her.

Elizabeth cast her eyes down out of embarrassment with the state she was in and nodded, "The man… was stronger than… I thought…," she said in a soft yet drawn out tone; she wearily rested her head in her hands, feeling the weight of the night's events. In addition to her injuries and inebriation- though lessening- her dress was torn and stained from the fights that night. Feeling more self-conscious, Elizabeth tried to step past him, but only stopped short when the dull pain in her leg had grown into a sharp and stabbing one.

Angelus instinctively grabbed her by the arms to help steady her on her feet, "You don't seem well enough to walk up alone." Standing by her side, he held her by the hand and waist so she could use him as a means of support. "Do you t'ink you're capable of walking?" he paused, wondering if he should just lift her up as he had done the other night when she had suffered from an injured ankle.

Taking his hand, she looked up at him and nodded, "Yes, I have walked this far," she said softly. She turned to look at the stairs nervously.

With her uncertainty, Angelus pressed Elizabeth against his chest, letting her lean upon him as they faced the task of scaling the daunting staircase. He moved slowly, taking his time so she didn't have to force herself against any unseen injuries. Her being drunk was another consideration, thinking maybe too much movement might set her off to vomit.

When they made it to her bedroom, he helped her to her bed.

"Stay put, I won't be long," he said, leaning low as he peered into her eyes.

"All right," she said softly as she nodded.

As he had promised, he had returned within a few short minutes with a tray of gauze, a roll of linen, and tweezers.

Seeing that he had returned with supplies to tend to her injuries, the young vampire flinched at the sight of the tweezers, being reminded of the shards of glass in her face and neck.

"'Appears you had quite a night," he said, setting down the tray on the bed as he took a seat next to her. Angelus brought a finger beneath her chin, lifting it slightly so he could take a closer look at her scratch, "He did a pretty number on you, didn't he?"

Elizabeth's blue eyes met his with embarrassment and nervousness. She wanted to turn her face away.

Angelus turned to pick up the tweezers then smiled to her, "But I'm sure you did worse."

Elizabeth could not help but smile at this.

His hand returned to her face, this time, gently cupping her cheek as he directed her face upwards.

With a sigh, Elizabeth relaxed her neck, becoming more pliant.

"This might sting a little," he said, bringing the tweezers to her cut. Finding the tiny shard refracting a bit in that little light, he pinched at it with the sharp ends and pulled it out.

With an unneeded breath, Elizabeth winced.

"I'm sorry if I'm hurting you," Angelus looked to her with a sincerely apologetic look, his heavy brows turning upward into thick swoops.

"It's… it's all right," she said as she flinched.

He let the sliver of a shard fall onto the tray. Moving on, Angelus carefully turned her head for any other hidden scratches. As he brushed her hair aside, he noticed another glint peeking out between a partially encrusted scab. Pushing her head slightly downward, he brushed her hair so that it draped down her shoulders, "This one seems a little more embedded. It might take me a bit to fish it out. Stop me if it hurts too much."

Elizabeth nodded. Balling her hand into a fist by her side, she clenched it tightly as she waited.

There was some partial scabbing that had grown over this cut, even with the little time Elizabeth had been exposed to it. Angelus set forth and had to unfortunately undo what healing had already taken place to reach the foreign object.

Elizabeth began to whimper in pain as she bit at her lip.

As Angelus felt he had gotten ahold of the glass shard, blood began to seep through.

"I… I've got it," he said as he pulled it out. He let a much more discernible piece fall with an audible clink onto the tray. "You can sit up now," he said, noticing the bead of blood roll down her slender neck. Leaning forward, Angelus brought his face closer towards her.

With a breath of relief, Elizabeth sat up with a small look of gratitude, "Thank-"

Angelus let the smell of her blood fill his nostrils before he set his lips down over her weeping wound.

With widening eyes, Elizabeth instinctively turned to face him and pushed him away with a hand to his shoulder.

Angelus pulled back at her touch, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," a hint of red lining the inside of his lips, "you were bleeding…," he averted his eyes as he busied himself with the gauze and linen. "My deepest apologies, Elizabeth, I should have known better," he said a little quietly, looking quite disappointed in himself.

Elizabeth watched him before casting her eyes to her lap. Accepting his apology with a nod, she ran her teeth over her bottom lip and shrugged her shoulders a bit, "Th-that startled me…. If you were anyone else…, I-I would have been terrified. I trust you," she said, letting her hand rest by his.

Noticing the proximity of her hand, Angelus paused before slowly inching his fingers over and clasping his hand over hers. He gave it a small squeeze, letting his hand idle there for a few seconds as they sat in silence, then resumed with tending to her wounds.

He examined her arms, only to find minor abrasions or small bruises, nothing that was too significant that would require him to wrap up.

"Um, are your legs all right?" he asked, glancing up to her, his smile almost appearing bashful.

Glancing back with a shy look of her own, Elizabeth nodded, "They are a bit sore, but nothing serious," she said in a soft and almost reassuring tone as she smiled at him.

Angelus gave a nod at that as he set the supplies back on the tray, "'Suppose I didn't need those anyway," he looked back up at her and smiled, "I underestimated your vampire ability to heal." Glancing down at the state of her clothes, he gave a soft sigh, "But, your dress," his fingers traced over her arm, close to one of the tears in the material.

Elizabeth also looked down at the state of her dress as she ran her teeth over her lip again.

"And your hair," Angelus chuckled a bit as he lifted his hand back to her face and tucked a strand of her long locks behind her ear.

Elizabeth smiled at that. "I am a bit of a mess," she said softly as she stood to clean herself up, only to immediately sit back down from a bit of a head rush.

Angelus was quick to take ahold of her wrist as he helped to settle her back down, "Maybe you should wait till you feel better before getting back up," he suggested, a look of concern touching his face. "Lying back might help."

Elizabeth rested her forehead against his shoulder for a moment before taking his advice and lay down. Lying on her side as she faced him, she had her arms slightly curled to her chest.

Angelus set the tray by the nightstand, "What exactly happened tonight?" After that confusing scene that had greeted him in the vestibule, the only person sane enough to give him a reasonable explanation- or just plain sane- was Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked up at him as she recalled the events.

Angelus sat at her bedside and he quietly listened as his hand found its way back to hers. "That's quite a mouthful," he said, after she had finished. "Maybe after this encounter, William will start to heed my warnings," he said thoughtfully. He paused as he appeared to fiddle with her fingers, "Would it be so bold of me to ask if I could lie next to you?" He glanced up at her as he tried to clear up his intentions, "I would just like to continue with our conversations. But, only with your permission, of course." Though Angelus had always appeared to be the cool headed leader of their group, he did not seem so confident then. It was as though he was preparing for rejection, his body ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

Elizabeth smiled at him and shook her head shyly before silently moving over to give him room.

Angelus glanced down at the space she readily made for him. Giving her a smile, he slowly moved over and lay on his side. "They were the ones that made you drunk, weren't they?" he remained smiling, but it was mixed with something that looked disapproving.

With a small smile, Elizabeth nodded, "They were… I lost- a lot," she said with an ashamed and timid tone to her voice.

"Oh, no," he moaned, slowly shaking his head, "don't ever agree to a drinking game with them. Drusilla will drink you under the table," he said to her in all seriousness. It was a funny notion, considering Drusilla had barely drank anything but blood in their presence, and Spike appeared to live with a bottle attached to his lips.

That was indeed very sound advice for the youngest vampire in the family. She was just eager to be accepted by the other members, to feel like she really belonged there. "I will not next time, I can promise you that," she said with a little groan to her voice.

"You don't have to accept their invitation the next time, if you don't wish to. You're already a part of this family; you don't need to go out of your depths just to please them, hmm?" he said softly whilst brushing her hair back away from her face.

She smiled at his touch, "All right," she said softly as she peered into his eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't return as I had promised," he continued to stroke at her hair, "it extended into something that required much more of my time and attention than I had expected. I was worried that I had left you wondering and waiting alone in the library, but I can see I was wrong with both accounts," he chuckled, "you got yourself rather involved with your own engagements." He brushed the back of his hand softly over her cheek, the cut having already shrank considerably, "I don't like learning about you getting hurt in my absence; that worries me."

Elizabeth laughed a bit and nuzzled her cheek into his touch, "That seems to happen when William is around," she said with a yawn.

"Yes, he steals you away from me, then has you hurt with his poor negligence, and has himself nearly killed," he sighed.

Elizabeth looked at him as she slowly blinked, "Would… would you stay here? …With me?" she said sleepily, a little above a whisper. In her state, it didn't matter what was proper or not, only the comfort she felt in his presence seemed to matter.

Angelus smiled, "If you would like me to." He pushed himself forward and kissed her on the forehead before sinking back down on the sheets next to her, then slowly pulled her to his chest.

With a sleepy smile, Elizabeth whispered, "Goodnight," and closed her eyes. She fell asleep in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _allez-vous bien?_ \- are you fine?  
>  _Pouvez-vous m’aider_? - Can you help me?  
>  _Parlez-vous anglais_? - Can you speak English?  
>  _Salut, petite fille_ \- Hello, little girl  
>  _Peux-tu m’aider? Je cherche quelque choses pour une poupée_. - Can you help me? I'm looking for something for a doll.  
>  _Entrez!_ \- Enter!  
>  _Trois_ _bières, s'il vous plaît_ \- Three beers, please  
>  _mes amis_ \- my friends


	30. Day 34: The Vampire

A swift knock came to Elizabeth's door that morning.

She sat up in bed to find herself still dressed from the night before and Angelus absent. Although she remembered killing the sailor and going to a tavern with her sire and Drusilla, most of the events that night felt like a distant dream. She pulled herself out of bed when the knocking persisted.

"Yes?" she answered the door after hastily throwing her peignoir on and tucking some unruly strands of hairs down.

"Mademoiselle," one of the maids smiled at her from the hallway and gave a small bow of her head, "we've just received two invitations for you from Madam de Beauvoir." She had them presented on a silver tray as Elizabeth picked them up. "Would you like for me to bring you anything?"

Elizabeth smiled at her, "Yes, some tea and sweets sent to the library, if that is no bother? I shall find my way there shortly."

The girl left with a nod and a curtsy upon the lady's request.

After Elizabeth closed the door, she turned around to inspect the cards. One was an invitation to afternoon tea for the following day, and the other for a Christmas Eve party, just one day shy of a week. She paused as she placed them on her vanity.

Her friendship with Maddelena was a fast and new one, but it was strained from the last encounter Maddelena had with Drusilla at the doll boutique. Though she would have wished to mend what injury that day had brought, the idea of attending tea during the day hours made Elizabeth incredibly wary, especially since she was unsure of the setting and placement. There was no way she could explain suddenly catching fire as she was being seated or merely reaching over for a spoonful of sugar. With a resigned sigh heavy with regret, Elizabeth sat down to write her declining answer. She hoped this would not add more distance between their uncertain friendship.

Now clean and presentably dressed, Elizabeth exited her bedroom with her letter in hand. She stopped short at her sire's door as her brows drew together with worry. The image of him lying vulnerable in the carriage lay fresh in her mind. It was a side of him that she still questioned.

"Grandmother?" she knocked lightly, hoping Drusilla was awake.

There came no reply.

Worry began to well up in her chest. She knocked again, "Grandmother?" she called out a little louder, wondering if anyone was present in the room and that all was well. Elizabeth pressed her ear to the door, hoping to hear any sign of life.

Again, there came no reply.

After a long, drawn out pause, Elizabeth pushed herself off the hardwood and turned to leave. Within taking two steps away, she halted at the sound of something falling over from inside. She immediately turned around and reached for the handle.

"Grandmother…?" she called out, her voice slightly rushed with an edge of concern. "Is… is everything all right?" she paused to wait for a response. She continued when there was no answer: "I… I shall invite myself in if I do not get a reply." She was met with silence. Taking a small breath, she turned the handle and pushed open the door.

As Elizabeth walked in, she was greeted with complete stillness. The room was dark, being that the curtains were appropriately drawn, but she could make her way around well enough with the little light that was still present. With the bed in view, it was clear that Drusilla was absent, but there remained one figure lying beneath the sheets- Spike. He was still sickly white, but he no longer had death's blue painted on his lips. The shirt he had dyed red with his blood no longer clung to his body, only strips of linen were wound securely around his bare chest, and a visible reddish-brown splotch that had seeped through the gauze.

It appeared as though Spike still wore a scowl even in sleep- that was until he opened his eyes and glared at her. He sat up and continued to glower, as though he were waiting for an explanation why she had walked into his room and interrupted his sleep.

Elizabeth took a few quiet steps closer and stopped at the foot of the bed, "I was worried, I heard a clatter…."

Spike said nothing and simply watched her, his expression sour as ever.

"I apologise if I woke you, I just wanted to see how you were. I… shall be going now," Elizabeth turned to leave.

Relieved that she had finally picked up to leave him in his peace and solitude, Spike reached over towards the nightstand, only to immediately stop. A low moan escaped his throat as he clutched at his wound with closed eyes. Even a simple task such as reaching for a pen and papers had caused him to strain his injury.

Elizabeth stopped short of the door and turned around. Without a word, she walked back to see her sire hunched over and the papers within his reach. Coming to his bedside, she noticed a paperweight on the floor. She replaced it on the nightstand before picking up the pen and papers.

"Was that what the noise was earlier? You knocked over the paperweight trying to reach for the papers?" she asked gently as she held the items out in front of him.

Spike opened his eyes and slowly peered up at her, the minutest shift of his frown looking less scornful as he carefully pulled the papers and pen from her grasp. There were no words of thanks or even a look of gratitude, just his eyes shifting down to his stationary in hand as it was something infinitely more important and interesting. He shuffled back against the pillows and rested his head back against the headboard before he started to scribble something down on the paper. Looking back up with a newfound annoyance, he turned the board and papers around for Elizabeth to read.

' _It was my poor attempt at throwing the bloody thing at the door so that you could leave me be, but that clearly did not work,'_ he had scrawled across the page, in surprisingly, remarkable penmanship.

Elizabeth's expression dimmed, "Oh… it was in my poor judgement to have… bothered to investigate." She lowered her eyes with a slight incline to her head, "Pardon the intrusion," she said in a small hush of a tone.

Spike rolled his eyes and turned the board around once more. Elizabeth paused as he scribbled in haste before turning the board towards her. ' _I'm bloody bored,'_ he had written in large letters; his expression was resolute.

Elizabeth glanced between the words on the paper, then to her sire's expression, then back to the paper before lowering her gaze. She could not suppress the little smile that came to her lips. For a man like her sire, this was a sign of normalcy. With a lighthearted smile, she raised her eyes to him again, "Would you like me to keep you company or bring you some books?"

He quickly jotted down his reply: ' _Fetch me some books if you must. Find anything as a means of entertainment that don't require rigorous movement.'_ Spike hoped that his mocking and sarcastic tone carried across in the written language, too.

"If you give me a list, I could see about finding the books you want," Elizabeth suggested.

Spike canted his head as he looked to his progeny with clear irritation. Setting the board into his lap, he began to write, pausing momentarily as he brought the end of his pen to his lips in contemplation; it was a habit that had also apparently carried over from his previous life, along with all his emotions. Taking a moment to glean over what he had written, he gave a small and satisfied nod before handing over the looseleaf to Elizabeth.

As Elizabeth read it, she occasionally glanced at him over the paper's edge:

\- a compendium box; if you cannot find one, a chess board and a deck of playing cards will suffice;  
\- a couple bottles of the Nicoise's finest red wine-better still if you come across finely aged cognac;  
\- a top hat;  
\- if you are able to come across any of these editions in English, select any of the following, or all: 'Little Men' by Louisa May Alcott, published in 1871; 'The Egoist' by George Meredith and 'Tiriel' by William Blake, both published in 1879; and 'Far from the Madding Crowd' by Thomas Hardy, published in 1874;  
\- perhaps something for tea if the alcohol doesn't satiate my hunger.

The list was reasonable, for him, at any rate, though she raised her brow a bit at the request for a top hat. _What would a bedridden vampire need with a top hat?_ she wondered. Looking over the selection of books that he wanted- the items she had initially proposed and actually wanted to get him- were quite nice for someone who acted like he did. They were rather interesting choices, and probably said a lot more about him than he cared to reveal, especially if it concerned what sort of personality he might have had as a man. If anyone thought Elizabeth had her little secrets, they paled in comparison to the mystery her sire surrounded himself with.

With a little nod, Elizabeth left the room to set out for the items on the list.

┼†‡

The library was the first place Elizabeth went in search for her sire's items. There, she had managed to find a chessboard on one of the high bookshelves by the door. Though the collection of English volumes wasn't as grand as the French and Italian ones, Elizabeth slowly and diligently read each title on each spine till she came across two of the books on her sire's list.

"And… got you," she stretched out her arm as she plucked a book off one of the far reaching shelves. Wish a satisfied sigh, she climbed down the ladder and added it to the other items she had set aside on a table. She sat down and looked over the rest of the list, wondering how she was going to locate the other ones.

"Mademoiselle Elizabeth, your tea is ready," the maid from before carefully set down a tray of tea and a slice of cake on the small table.

Elizabeth raised her head and smiled, "Thank you."

"Is there anything else you need from me?" the maid asked.

"Yes, would you mind helping me carry it upstairs?" she stood as she took the books and board into her arms again; her letter was mindfully tucked on top of the hard covers.

"Not at all, Mademoiselle." The maid did as requested and lifted the tray as she followed her upstairs.

When they reached her sire's room, Elizabeth stopped her from entering as she set her items inside. She returned to the door to take the tray from her before returning once more with the letter in hand, "Thank you for your help. If you could have this sent to Madam de Beauvoir today. It is of an urgent nature, and it is of utmost importance that she have this in hand by midday."

"Yes, of course," the maid held the letter firmly in her grasp. "Mademoiselle," with a slight nod to her head and a curtsy, she departed.

┼†‡

Spike glanced up when Elizabeth reentered the room. His eyes followed her as she returned to the door to exchange words with someone else outside his door before pulling in a tray of tea. He waited to see what she had managed to find.

With the tray in hand, Elizabeth walked over and set it down on the bed next to her sire before leaving to retrieve the books and chessboard. Spike glanced down at it, not bothering to take a whiff of the tea to know that it was peppermint infused.

"This is what I have been able to find so far," Elizabeth said, returning with the items; Spike brightened when he glanced up. "Earlier, I asked for tea to be sent to the library, but I thought it would be best if it were brought here, considering I do not know how long this will take," she said with a smile.

Spike made a grabbing motion with his right hand, eager to see what she had found. Taking the books from his progeny, he turned them over in his hands. 'The Egoist' was something he had yet to read, but it had caused quite a stir amongst his peers, and he had only read part way through 'Little Men' before he was visited by Drusilla that lonely night. Spike gave a small and pleased smile at that latter title, finding he finally had the chance to conclude its adventures. He paused to glance back up at Elizabeth before pulling a blank sheet of paper to scribble down another note. He held up the paper: ' _I require ALCOHOL,'_ he had written, stressing the importance of the item with larger font.

Reading his message, Elizabeth nodded with a sigh, "Yes, I have yet to locate that. I did not want the tea getting cold, so I thought it best to bring that here first. I can only do so much with two arms," she said, trying her best to contain her own growing frustration. Spike looked to her with an expression that read annoyance and something along the lines of 'I-expected-more-from-you' type of disappointment. Without another parting word, she turned and left the room.

Spike watched her go then dragged the tray a little closer to him before deciding to pour himself a cup of her tea. Settling back down against the plush pillows, he flipped through the pages of the book to find where he had left off, but his expression soon fell into another frown. He squinted at the pages before him, bringing the book only a few mere inches from his face to only find that the lighting was too poor for him to make out any of the words at that distance. He hadn't expected this- rather, he had forgotten his need for spectacles until he was faced with a book with far too small a print. With his transformation into a vampire, all his senses had been heightened, but he had discovered that his vision had not been corrected. He could say that it had marginally gotten better, but not by much; reading was still a challenge for him, and objects at a distance still appeared to have a hazy look to them, just not as much as before. Spike set the book aside indignantly, wondering if he should ask Elizabeth to find him a pair of spectacles when she returned, or just suffer through lots of squinting and an ink-rubbed nose.

┼†‡

Elizabeth rubbed at her temple as she walked down the hallway. What had started out as a friendly gesture had turned into a scavenger hunt. Her sire's impatience and unwelcome comments did not help her in any form at locating his requested items any quicker, but did fan the flames of her own hidden and controlled irritations.

Now that she was free from his judging gaze, she decided to take this little 'hunt' as a means to explore the manor; against the request of her sire and urgency of his words, Elizabeth was in no rush to find his precious alcohol. She found herself wandering the main level floor at her own leisurely pace, being mindful of unshaded windows as she walked past.

 _It is still daylight- where could Drusilla have gone?_ she thought. The idea of Drusilla absent from her sick lover struck her as odd.

Elizabeth's mind strayed to the night before as she vaguely remembered getting herself into fights with a lewd and drunken sailor and a mob. But what had caused a rosy flush of embarrassment to her cheeks was how easily she had gotten drunk- and the events that followed after that night. She brought her fingers to the back of her neck, feeling nothing but smooth skin where her wound had previously been. A cold rush came over her as she recalled a hazy memory of Angelus tending to her. Resting her head in her palm, she could only imagine how much of a fool she must have acted in her state, inebriated and worn out from her fights, and in front of a man she liked, no less. She mentally kicked herself as she bit down on her lip. Letting out a heavy sigh, she promised herself that she would later find him and apologise for- what she could hope was only- her slightly strange behaviour.

Elizabeth continued with her meanderings, her curiosity taking her to a corridor with portraits hung on the wall. She walked slowly as she studied the stoic black and white faces of men and women, recognisably as Maurizio's family, and an even younger portrait of the man himself.

This led her to the drawing room where she found a piano. She began to hum softly as she observed a large oil painting that covered one of the walls. It was a depiction of the Mediterranean sea- turbulent, calming, and mysterious all at once. She glided her fingers along the edge of the gilded frame before turning her attention to one of the large Oriental vases that adorned one of the corners of the room, something that looked similar to one of the many she had at home. Turning on her spot, she walked forward and stopped short in front of the piano as she slowly drew her hands to the cover. She could not help but smile as she lifted it and pressed her fingertips to the cold ivory that lay beneath. A single note resounded loudly throughout the room, reminding her of her failed lessons, but allowing her to discover another valuable instrument in the process- her voice. Elizabeth carefully lowered the lid before taking another glance around the room, then left.

This solitary exploration had made it even more apparent to Elizabeth how lovely the house was. It was expansive, filled with refined and beautiful objects, but lacked the cheer of laughter and the sound of human footfall, save for the timed cleaning of the help. It reminded her of her home, leaving an ache in her chest of longing and nostalgia, but also of a deep bitterness, and a feeling of resentment.

As she neared the kitchen, she was reminded of her task at hand with the sound of the staff's preparations. Before reaching the door, she saw another one that led downstairs. _The wine cellar, of course!_ she thought, remembering when Maurizio had shown them a tour of his estate when they had first arrived. Taking a lantern down with her, she was met with the pick of hundreds of bottles. With one now in her grasp, all that was needed was a hat. She quietly slipped out and back upstairs unobserved.

The only top hat she could think of belonged to Angelus. This occurred to her as she passed his room, causing her to stop momentarily. With a nervous swallow, she shook the idea from her head before returning to her sire's room.

┼†‡

During Elizabeth's absence, Spike had managed to fill two pages worth of writing- one, with the word 'bollocks', and the other with Drusilla's name. He'd written each word in varying degrees- some in cursive, some in larger font, some bold, and others separated into individual letters. Though the former word wasn't a very pretty thing to hear, Spike's typography was rather quite pleasing to the eye. What had caused the bedridden vampire to turn to such strange behaviour was because of his state of vexation. The items that Elizabeth had procured for him held little value to him at that moment- a chess set with no opponent, and two books with too small a print that he could barely make the words out. Even the tea and cake that Elizabeth had left behind could not be consumed with any satisfaction because that required taste; for one to taste, one required the use of their olfactory system, and with a punctured and still healing lung, Spike could not breathe. He couldn't even sigh even though he wanted to. Thinking he would take to write some poetry, it had finally dawned on him that even his muse had abandoned him.

He glanced up as Elizabeth entered the room with a bottle in hand; his mood was instantly lifted and he couldn't suppress the happy smile that crept up on his wan face. Spike motioned with his hand for her to pass it to him as she placed it on the nightstand.

Elizabeth craned her neck to see what her sire had been writing. She giggled at what she saw, "Boredom must have done you in, though I'm glad to see you are doing better," she said gently, though the teasing tone in her voice was undeniable; she handed him the bottle.

Spike pulled it into his lap and turned it over to examine the label. He paused as he glanced back up at her, then tapped at the bottle before raising two fingers, and tapped the bottle again; his expression looked quizzical.

"I'm sorry, I thought just one would be fine," she looked like a child being scolded.

Spike rolled his eyes at her before placing his hand to his face. He was a vampire with too much time on his hands- one bottle of wine would never be enough. He motioned for her to hand him the list he had given her.

"I can get another one later if you like," Elizabeth said as she handed the paper over.

Turning it towards him, Spike found the items listed and pointed to a specific one before moving to the next as he showed Elizabeth: a deck of playing cards; _two_ bottles of red wine or cognac- at this, Spike turned to look back at her and again raised two fingers before lifting up the wine bottle that was now in his possession; and finally, the top hat. He supposed having two out of the four books he had requested would suffice; he wouldn't be staying in bed for that long considering the quick supernormal healing abilities he possessed. But, he also had the problem of being able to _read_ any of it at all without spectacles. This was a conundrum. Something he still debated whether he should ask of her or not. It was obvious that if and when he did ask her to find a pair, she'd know about his poor eyesight. But on the other hand, he really wanted to find out what came about with all the other boys at Plumfield…. He waited to see how Elizabeth would respond before he'd decide whether he wanted to ask her for that other favour.

Even though her sire was being more testy than usual, Elizabeth did not react out of annoyance, rather, she looked more apologetic as he pointed out the items she had missed. "I really am sorry that I wasn't able to get everything…." She turned her gaze to the books, "Though, I did get the books you wanted. Are they any good?" she asked with a small smile and hopeful tone to her voice. "I have yet to read them."

Spike peered to the books he had sidled off to the side of the bed and paused in thought before he pulled the writing board into his lap and started to scribble out his answer. He handed her the sheet after he was done. " _I have yet to read 'The Egoist'. It was spoken amongst my peers as a good edition to one's reading repertoire; a humorous yet tragic, comedic story that was recommended to me on more than one occasion. I am only part way through 'Little Men', but the story thus far has been highly enjoyable._ " He fiddled with his pen, turning it within the grasp of his fingers as his gaze remained downcast in thought. Then, he started to write something else as Elizabeth was reading his first note. " _Perhaps, after you locate those other items on the list, you could read to me. Simultaneously, you'll have the opportunity to divulge in some good American literature whilst I needn't overexert myself with reading, nor share the book with you._ " It was an odd idea to think how one could overexert themselves with reading, unless they had injured their sight in some form. This, however, did not apply to Spike. Not really, anyway. Spike raised his brows as he glanced down at the paper within his grasp, then with a small shrug, handed it to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was happy that her sire was being level headed in his responses, but she had to admit her wariness at the second note he handed her. With a silent sigh, she read it, expecting insults and demands, but her solemn look soon turned into a little smile. Like the curious notion of him requiring a top hat, she could see no logic in how he could overexert himself just by reading. This would also be a question she would keep to herself. "I would like that," she replied with a smile.

Spike watched as she warmed up to his invitation, wondering if what he did was such a wise thing. Merely blinking at her, he waited as he expected Elizabeth to head off in search of those last few things. And with a nod, she left the room.

┼†‡

Slipping back downstairs, Elizabeth carefully made her way back to the cellar and retrieved one more bottle of wine. Though it hadn't occurred to her initially, a small glint in the corner of her eye caught her attention as she was about to leave. Bringing the lantern closer to one of the shelves, she discovered a couple of corkscrews. She took ahold of one, seeing as it would be essential for her sire to have something to open his precious bottles of wine.

Now with one of the items free from the list, Elizabeth retraced her steps from her first route. She had remembered her father and his associates retiring to the drawing room for games of cards and other means of entertainment. When her brother Jonathan was old enough, he was also invited into his circle, something she had only been left to the imagination from behind closed doors and their laughter that carried down the hall. Now finding herself in the Frenchman's drawing room, she turned to the table where she recalled her father keeping a deck of playing cards in one of the small drawers; she hoped that Maurizio did the same. Bending low, Elizabeth examined the intricate wood engravings along the edge of the table before she found a small knob poking out. Carefully pulling it open, she glanced inside and was pleased to discover that her hunch had been correct. Adding the cards to her growing collection, Elizabeth's once triumphant smile waned into a frown. She could not help but feel that lingering feeling again, having used an example of her own past to find those playing cards. With a sharp shake of her head, she forced herself to think of the last object on the list and quickly made her way upstairs.

┼†‡

Pushing the tea tray away from him- with now a cold cup of neglected tea- Spike made himself more comfortable and sat cross legged. He cradled the wine in his lap as he admired the brand, when his smile soon faded into realisation- he didn't have a corkscrew. He smacked his hand to his face and closed his eyes. _Oh, God, Elizabeth should have put two and two together,_ he thought.

Looking back to the bottle, he rolled it around within his grasp as he thought of what to do. Spike pressed his cheek into his palm. He'd need something incredibly sharp to pry it out. Something… needle-like. Spike glanced back to the bottle from his stupor as he pondered this idea.

Wait a minute. He was a bloody vampire. He already had built-in things like that he could summon by sheer will.

Sitting up a little straighter with a slight bit more enthusiasm, Spike gave his shoulders a little roll before morphing into his vampire facade. Getting a good grip of the neck with both hands, he clamped down on top of the cork with one of his pointed fangs and nudged it down till he felt that it was fairly secure. With his mouth agape, Spike pulled his head back while simultaneously yanking down on the bottle. Nothing happened. He tried again with a little more force, but just ended up releasing his fang and getting his head thrown back.

┼†‡

"Why would he want a hat?" Elizabeth quietly uttered underneath her breath as she ascended the stairs. She walked forward and slowed to a stop as she stood in front of Angelus' door again; her mind began to race. _It is just a silly hat. Why would it be so important that I get it for him anyway? Well, whatever the reason, he will just keep sending me for it. No. I am not about to go into his room to- well, if I make him promise to return it- the probability of him agreeing to do that or not destroy it is so low, I would have a better chance of getting a kind word out of him. What would Angelus think of me, going into his room uninvited, just for a hat? And last night… I must have acted so foolish…. What if he isn't there at all? I would be risking his feelings for me just for a hat! Of course I cannot explain that to William, it is a secret. Oh, this is silly! I will just tell him I cannot find one and I don't care what he thinks!_ With a firm nod, Elizabeth turned and marched back to her sire's room.

┼†‡

Spike frowned and tried again. He set his tooth in deeper, even gnawing at the edge of the bottle to accomplish this. As he tried to shift the cork out with a little more consideration due to leverage, he felt some movement. Getting excited, he continued till the cork slowly pulled out and he heard a pop. Spike grinned triumphantly, having finally gotten the thing free from the neck. With the cork still attached to the end of his fang and hanging out of his mouth- in full vampire-face- he glanced up to see Elizabeth walk into the room. He froze, like he'd been caught doing something bad.

Elizabeth immediately halted in her tracks when she lifted her gaze from the bottle in her hands. What a sight to behold. For anyone. Who'd ever think a beast so terrifying could look so harmless and comical? Apparently Spike managed to pull that off well. A wide smile slowly spread across Elizabeth's face, "I… f-forgot something," she walked forward and tried her best to suppress her laughter.

Spike yanked the cork off of his fang and shifted back to his normal form. With an expression of slight indignation, his eyes followed her, glancing to see that she had finally brought the corkscrew that he had sorely needed. She placed it on his lap as a bubble of laughter surfaced from her mouth. _Well, where was that when I bloody needed it? Don't think it's much use to me now, is it?_ he thought, proving that he was rather versatile even in his sickly state. Even so, he kept the handy tool by him- he was not going to use his fangs to open the second bottle.

Elizabeth set the wine and cards down on the nightstand before taking a seat nearby. After she managed to control her stifled laughter, she lifted her head to grin at her sire.

Looking to Elizabeth with disdain, Spike put the opened bottle to his mouth and threw his head back as he took a long and drawn out draught. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked at the other items she had found: more wine- which he was pleased with- and playing cards. Spike glanced to her. _No hat?_ he thought, giving her a quizzical look.

Elizabeth straightened in her seat, "I-I could not find a top hat," she replied as though she had read his mind.

Spike scratched the side of his head with a finger as he looked down, wondering if he'd pester her more to get one. He had had one before, but he had carelessly tossed it somewhere; he wasn't sure if it was still within the house or even on the estate. It could have even been in the back garden of that last party they had attended or in watery graves; he honestly didn't keep much attention to where he lay unimportant possessions. She could steal one from Angelus or the dandy; they had loads of them laying around.

Spike took another swig from the bottle and picked up 'Little Men', then tossed it at Elizabeth. She caught it and glanced to him. Resting the bottle within his lap, he looked at her expectantly. He supposed he could go for some escapism and have her read to him for the time being.

Picking up on his cue, Elizabeth settled more comfortably in her seat, then opened the book and began to read.

Spike nestled back against the pillows and tugged the sheets up over his lap. Leaning his head back, he listened to her as he recounted the first chapter of the story. The look on his face grew distant as he imaged the scene of what was happening: A young, orphaned boy named Nat was suddenly introduced to a new world of rambunctious youths, eager and happy to meet him. The image of them sliding down the bannister caused a slight smile to appear on his face. Never did he have an opportunity to do that as a boy; he was far too obedient and proper.

His education was strict in a sense that most educators were, but he'd heard worse stories from others. One of the most prominent issues he had was that he naturally took to writing with his left hand. His first tutor was appalled at that, taking a wooden stitch to his hand to get him to use his right one.

"That's the devil's hand! Do you want the devil inside of you?" he recalled him saying. Spike gave a wry smile at that memory as he took a swig of wine- apparently he did. Even though he was often left in tears, he couldn't break the habit and eventually had that tutor replaced. The following ones made comments of the improper use of his hand as well, but he was such a diligent student that they overlooked that detail and let him carry on.

Getting pulled back into the story from his little reverie, Spike continued to listen.

On occasion, Elizabeth would glance at her sire out of the corner of her eye. It was strange to her to see him actually quiet and still- though she supposed he didn't have much choice in that matter. But having him absorbed in the story as she watched the changes in his expressions, it made him appear… human. It was another side of him she was just discovering. She could not help but smile herself as she enjoyed the story that was unfolding in front of her. It made her wonder what man her sire could have been before, reminding her of that horrible scene in the carriage, and the ghost of a man her sire might have been. She had yet to determine whether that was merely a manifestation of delirium or a memory of who he once was. And it was apparent from the way that he had behaved that day, that he had no recollection of.

The first chapter wasn't nearly over, but Spike had already drunk half of the bottle. He anticipated the ending of the chapter, when there was the introduction of the great Saturday pillow fights. It had brought a small chuckle to him before as a man, and it made no difference to him as a vampire. At the first chirp of laughter, Spike moaned and grabbed at his chest. He'd have to be mindful not to get too amused with things without the use of his lungs to aid in his laughter.

This scene had also elicited a little giggle from Elizabeth. She paused and turned to glance at her sire with concern, "Are you all right?"

Spike waved a hand at her from his stupor.

"I'll continue reading, then," she replied. She continued where she had left off, but would glance up from the book from time to time to check on him.

After his laughing and moaning had subsided, Spike listened attentively, all the while nursing the bottle; he had finished it before the completion of the second chapter. He smiled again as he heard the funny antics of Tommy Bangs and all his misdemeanours. He clutched at his chest to remind himself not to laugh, when Drusilla entered the room.

"Is it story time already?" she glanced to Elizabeth as she dragged a young woman in after her. Elizabeth stopped her reading and looked up to smile at her, only to notice the other girl with Drusilla.

Spike beamed at Drusilla as he pushed himself off his comfortable pillows to sit up.

"I've brought you a scrumptious morsel, William," Drusilla smiled as she walked towards the bed, tugging the bedraggled and confused woman in tow. She glided her gloved fingers underneath his chin as he looked up at her; Spike turned his face upwards expectantly for a kiss. Reading the cues of her eager lover, Drusilla leaned down and gave him a tender kiss on the lips while pressing her hand to the side of his face. Spike gave her a smitten smile as she pulled away and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Throughout this, Drusilla's hand was still clasped to the strange woman. "Would you like to feed now, love? Seems like you've had your fill on something red already," she glanced at his empty wine bottle before returning her gaze to him.

Spike pressed forward and gave an affirming nod, then looked to the girl in question. A dark smile crept across his face.

Drusilla gave the girl's arm a sharp tug, causing her to fall forward in front of Spike. The cup of tea spilt as she braced herself with her thin arms. "A spry little one, isn't she?" Drusilla commented as the girl looked to the two in confusion.

Taking hold of the girl's wrist, Spike pulled her forward so that she was forced to face him, then he paused. He turned his head to look at Elizabeth.

"Would granddaughter care to watch?" Drusilla also turned to her, bringing her hands together in front of her mouth in a small and excited clap as she beamed.

Spike glanced back to his lover with a slight look of annoyance, as though her asking was unreasonable.

"She might want to stay," Drusilla said in her defense.

Unlike the times before, Elizabeth did not object to the scene about to unfold, given the current circumstances. She shook her head when she saw her sire's sour expression and closed the book, "I'll leave you two in peace," she stood and set the book on the chair. With a departing smile, she left them as she had promised and shut the door behind her.

┼†‡

Elizabeth found herself in the library as she had originally planned. Settling down in her hidden nook, she lit several candles around her and lost herself in her own book and the silence. She read until the sun set.

"...you're being unreasonable," Angelus said. He and Maurizio had been walking down the hall together till they stopped a short distance away from the the library. That part of the conversation funnelled into the open doorway and echoed against the vast ceilings.

"Unlikely," Maurizio replied, "not when I feel like I am sneaking around in my own home! Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise and I have just been given the most opportune moment to take my leave."

"Settle down, friend," Angelus said, his voice calming and soothing as usual.

Hearing their voices, Elizabeth rose from her seat and crept down the loft. She hid by the wall near the door as she listened in on their heated conversation.

At that moment, Angelus detected another's presence. He flicked his eyes downward for a brief moment before looking back at Maurizio.

"In addition with the unneeded feeling of disparity, things are still going according as planned," Maurizio said, still looking quite upset.

"Would you care to share?"

Maurizio glanced to his guest with a look of scepticism.

"Tell me what is troubling you; it would help to unburden your mind. Are we not friends?" Angelus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and gave him a small shake.

Maurizio let a small sigh escape his lips, "I'm afraid it involves you, in some small way."

"Oh?"

Maurizio paused, "It concerns your friend…, Elizabeth. I've grown fond of her. On the night of the party, we had shared a moment- details I don't wish to disclose- but, when I approached her about it, she behaved as though nothing had happened. With much humiliation, I would gladly leave my own home to avoid any further awkward instances between us."

"Ah. An unrequited love, I see."

With upturned brows, Elizabeth cupped her hands over her mouth. Love? She had only believed that it was a mere fondness he had for her, not love. Unfamiliar with a man's affections besides the growing feelings between her and Angelus, she thought she had only been polite and friendly to her host.

Maurizio shook his head, "No, it is much more than that. She put a spell on me, made me believe she held me in the same interest; she took my heart like some sort of… _vampire!_ " he said bitterly.

Angelus could not help but smirk at that, "I was not witness to this, but you are a great man with a strong will. I am sure in time you'll overcome this. This is not your first love after all, is it?"

Maurizio gave a small nod and sighed, "Yes… yes, you are right. In due time, I'll have moved on from this moment."

"Does this still change your plans?"

"No, I am to leave in two days time. Though, I was entertaining the idea of extending my stay abroad. Perhaps I'll leave my estate in your care in my absence."

Angelus laughed, "You put too much trust in me, Maurizio."

"You have been a good friend, Angelus. Thank you for sparing a moment of your time to listen to my drabble," Maurizio sighed once more.

"Not at all. Do whatever you feel is best."

The master of the home gave a small nod before taking his leave.

Angelus watched him disappear down the hall before turning on his heel and walking towards the library doors, "Have you been listening long, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth gasped, having only taken one step away from the door at her attempts of retreating. She waited till she saw Angelus emerge from the folds of the light, but she could only make out the darkness of his silhouette. "For… the past few minutes," she replied shyly, still worried about facing him since the night before.

Angelus stepped towards her and took ahold of her hands, "You've managed to steal two men's hearts in such a short amount of time. How did you manage to do that?" he smiled at her, watching as she bashfully glanced away. "What is wrong? Does it bother you so much to learn about Maurizio's state of gloom?"

"It… it is not so much that," she began as she looked to their hands, "I… did not know the extent of it. That his feelings were… so much more…."

Angelus chuckled softly at her innocence, "Not to worry, he has experienced this sort of heartbreak before."

She paused before continuing, "I really do hope I did not make a fool of myself last night," she glanced up at him for a moment, then cast her eyes down again. "I've… never drunk that much before."

He placed his hand to the side of her face and grazed his thumb where she had been cut, "Have you forgotten what had happened between us already?" he said softly, looking a little hurt, though he was still smiling. Elizabeth immediately flicked her gaze up at him, eyes wide as a breath hitched in her throat; she shivered under his touch. "I tended to your injuries; you were a complete and utter mess," he chuckled. She exhaled slowly. "And no," he shook his head, "you did not act the fool. You were a lady, through and through." At that moment, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead; Elizabeth smiled and closed her eyes briefly, "I'll make sure you don't overestimate your capacity to drink next time, hmm?" brushing his hand through her hair, he glanced down at her and smiled.

Elizabeth relaxed her shoulders in relief as she looked up at him with a little smile, "Thank you. I will not make that mistake again." Glancing in the direction of the loft, her smile dimmed into a small frown, "I left some candles burning," she turned back to him almost tentatively. "Would you… like to join me?" she quickly glanced down at their hands again.

"I would love to," Angelus replied. Taking her hand, he led them forward and up to the loft.

When they had reached her nook, Elizabeth let go of his hand and turned to face him. Without warning, she opened her arms and pulled herself to his body in an embrace. She gently pressed her forehead into his chest as a timid smile shone from her face.

Slightly taken by surprise, Angelus reciprocated by wrapping his strong arms around her, letting his hands press against her back as he rested his chin atop of her head, "When did you become so bold?" he teased, his voice soft in the dim candlelight. "Last night left you with more than a few scratches."

She giggled, "I miscalculated far too many times; I'm not much of a fighter," she said softly as her cheeks began to flush.

"Well, that cannot be entirely yours to blame, you were under the influence," he noted, "and even so, you managed."

"But… for the moment, I… just wanted to hug you," her tone was just a little above a whisper as she peered up at him.

Angelus laughed as he glanced down at her, "And at this moment, I just want to kiss you," he smiled. Slowly, he inched forward till their lips met. With one hand pressed to the side of her face, and the other grasped at her waist, he remained in that position much longer than he had before as they kissed.

Finally parting from her lips, Angelus smiled as he took her hand and pulled her to the sofa to sit next to him, "I suspect you received the invitation to Maddelena and Pierre's Christmas Eve party this morning. I am also invited," he said. Elizabeth neatly folded her hands in her lap as she smiled at the idea of them attending the party together. "However," he paused slightly as he glanced down, "Drusilla and William are not."

Loyalty to her sire and love for her grandmother aside, it was a small relief that they were not invited, given the events of the last time when all four of them went to one. "I can only imagine why," Elizabeth said with a bit of humour to her voice.

Angelus gave a small sigh, "Yes, it was to be expected, what with their last display. Drusilla makes Maddelena uncomfortable already, and with Maurizio leaving, they don't feel a need to be obligated to extend that invitation to his guests." He turned to her and smiled as he grasped the top of her hand, "I suppose we shall have to make the most of the night with just the two of us." He paused in thought before continuing, "You would need another dress for this occasion. Something more grand and exquisite than the last. Shall I call for Jean-Baptiste again?"

"I would like that very much. Thank you," there was a note of excitement to her voice as she turned towards him and placed her hand on his.

Angelus nodded, "Good. I shall send for him tomorrow. I hope that given this is such late notice, he'll have time to take us. I'd imagine he gets many requests around this time of year." It was very close to the holidays, and by some small miracle, Jean-Baptiste had still managed to complete Elizabeth's first party dress. "If he turns us away, I'll just have to make him an offer he can't refuse," he smiled a bit coyly.

Laughing a little, she relaxed in his presence. She let her hands fall to the cushions at her sides, when her fingers brushed against the cover of her book. She turned her head to glance down at it and paused.

"Please. I won't be bothered by your reading at all," Angelus interrupted the very thought on her mind.

Elizabeth glanced up at him with a concerned frown, "…Really? Is it no bother at all?"

"Yes, I promise you," Angelus smiled, giving her hand a small squeeze.

Elizabeth gave him a small and appreciate smile before she picked up the book and opened it in her lap. Bowing her head, she resumed where she had left off.

Angelus shifted across the sofa so that they were now seated across from each other. He found the time to preoccupy himself with more sketches, and every now and then, he would reach across and cradle Elizabeth's free hand whilst she read. He smiled at her as he peered above his makeshift easel before glancing back down to his paper, "I'm capturing every essence of you here," he said.

Before long, he had finished; he turned the paper around for her to see. This one was of her smiling- a clear depiction of a woman in love.

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she looked at a reflection of herself as she was- in love with the man in front of her.

"Let's say we go out for our hunt, now. Best not to get caught out too late, considering everything that had transpired the night before."

"That would be best," she said, taking his arm as he offered it to her.

They walked out of the library towards the vestibule. There, they were met with Drusilla descending the stairs with the body of the dead girl in her arms. "Hello, Daddy, granddaughter," she smiled happily.

"You'll be more careful now, Dru. You're lucky it was only us here at the door to greet you," Angelus glanced to her.

Elizabeth remained silent during this exchange.

"Not to worry. I've been spying outside my cage this entire time. No one bothers to guard the castle gates at this time of night," she said, skipping off the last step as she walked towards the door past them.

"And where are you taking that?" he raised a speculative brow as he got the door for her.

"I've been stowing them away in the garden. The worms do appreciate it."

"Don't let them pile up long, lest you want the gardeners to find them. Relocate them when you can."

"Of course, Daddy, after I nurse William back to health. He's finally gone to sleep," she giggled. "Though, he did request for me to fetch him a top hat. Might I take one off your hands?"

Angelus gave her a puzzled look, "Why does he need t'at?"

Drusilla giggled again, "I can't tell," she sang before trotting off.

Angelus watched as she left then turned to Elizabeth, "Shall we continue on our way, then?"


	31. Day 35: Drinking

The previous night left Spike exhausted. Though he had fed on a fair share of blood to recuperate from the amount that he had lost on the night of that unprecedented skirmish, he still had some recovering to do, especially now since he had unprovokingly distressed his wound. Drusilla always had a strong, sexual appetite, and even though Spike was in a weakened state, that didn't curb her enthusiasm from mounting him. He didn't find much issue with that, considering she was doing most of the work, but knowing she- as well as he, at times- had unconventional bed methods, led to her crushing his ribs and sending him moaning in the most unpleasant ways. This had resulted him in unintentionally pushing her off, causing her to pout and turn over on her side away from him. Spike had kissed her on the shoulder as an apology, but that did little to appease her, as they hadn't finished. So, the vampire just lay back on his side of the bed, feeling miserable that he couldn't please his woman, and hoped that he'd recover sooner since his poor health was making her so unhappy.

That aside, he did feel much better that day. He was still incredibly sore, but he could move around with much more ease. Deciding he'd test his abilities at recovery, Spike tried inhaling a shallow breath of air and immediately stopped when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Speaking was still out of the question.

┼†‡

It was early afternoon when the maid knocked on Elizabeth's door, "Mademoiselle Elizabeth, Monsieur Gautier is here to see you."

Spike heard the knock from inside his room and wondered who had come so early to see her. He pressed his ear to the door to listen.

Having just finished fixing her hair, Elizabeth stood from her vanity dresser and answered the door, "Please, do come in," she said with a smile. "Monsieur Gautier, thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Not at all! I was praying you'd call for me soon enough!" he laughed, greeting her with kisses.

Behind him was Aloyse hefting a very large box. Elizabeth shifted her gaze to her and eyed the item in question.

Jean-Baptiste turned to Elizabeth after he stepped into her gloomily lit room. Holding her hands within his, he beamed at her, "Since I already had your measurements, I do hope you don't find me forward that I have already been designing a dress for you since I finished your last one."

Elizabeth raised her brows in surprise, "Oh, not at all. I am quite excited to see what you had in mind."

"All I need for you to do is to try it on. Then we shall have the minor alterations finished." He gave her a small nod before turning to his assistant.

Aloyse laid the box down on Elizabeth's bed and carefully removed the dress from inside.

Unlike the first one that had a high, modest collar, long sleeves, and one tone throughout, this dress was extravagant. It was white and gold that bloomed outward like a bell- something that was made for a ball. The neckline drooped much lower, enough to expose one's collar bones, though it was still tasteful, elegant, and modest; the sleeves were short and trimmed with a scrunched up silk tulle that also drew attention to the neckline; the bodice- a separate piece- was trimmed in white fur, and similar to the first dress, had an intricately embroidered design sewn throughout it. From the amount of material that was used to make it, it was clear that a crinoline cage would be required.

"It's beautiful…, just… beautiful…. I don't know what else to say," Elizabeth breathed as she stared at it in awe.

Jean-Baptiste chuckled at her gently, "Merci, Mademoiselle." He turned back to his assistant in all seriousness, "Aloyse, if you would help Mademoiselle Elizabeth with her dress," he instructed.

It took much longer for the pair to get the pins exactly where they wanted this time, considering how much more material they had to work with, but after a lengthy couple of hours, they had everything in place, and ever so carefully helped her out of the dress.

"I believe I will have this done within two days time. If not, definitely in time for Christmas Eve. Just like the last, I hope to make this shine on you," Jean-Baptiste smiled.

Departing with kisses, the dressmaker and his assistant left Elizabeth in her room as they helped themselves out.

Spike made sure he was in the clear as he peeked out of his room before exiting his door. Dressed in only a pair of trousers and a loosely buttoned up shirt, he strolled into Elizabeth's bedroom just as she was slipping out from behind her changing screen. He tapped on the edge of his writing board with his pen to catch her attention, causing her to look up at him in startlement.

Her surprise soon faded into a smile as she observed her sire, barefooted and slovenly dressed.

' _What's this about a Christmas Eve party?_ ' he had written.

"Angelus and I are invited to one," she replied simply.

Spike blinked a little quizzically in response. He scribbled something down before turning the board over and tapping on it again: ' _Dru and I didn't receive any invitations to this party._ ' It was clear where his thoughts were beginning to lead.

At a loss for words, Elizabeth cast her eyes down and seated herself at her vanity table. She began to brush the ends of her hair as she chewed on the bottom of her lip.

Spike watched his progeny fidget, knowing well that her nervous habits and ticks were telltale signs that she didn't want to admit to what he already knew. He rolled his eyes as he thought: ' _And she's not even the bloody one that can't speak_.'

"Am I interrupting something here?" Angelus walked into the room to see both of his juniors not speaking- one with a look of annoyance, and the other, a small bundle of nerves and worry. He walked forward next to Spike and observed his unsightly state, then glanced down at the writing board as he lifted it with a finger, "Usin' a board now, are you, William?" he peered back up at him, a condescending smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eyes. "What a relief from having to hear all your blathering."

Spike glared at him and threw two astute fingers up in his direction.

Angelus merely chuckled and walked forward towards Elizabeth, "I just wanted to see how it went with Jean-Baptiste. I was happy to hear that he came through in the end."

Smiling up at Angelus, Elizabeth nodded, "As was I. Apparently, he had been designing a dress for me all this time. It's beautiful."

Spike folded his arms across his chest as he audibly drummed his fingers on the board, not liking being cut off and ignored from the conversation.

"And no, it doesn't concern you, William," Angelus replied without turning around, his voice strained with annoyance, "only Elizabeth and I were invited. You and Dru can go find something else to do that evening," he said over his shoulder.

Spike glanced between the two, feeling slightly insulted and left out from their bonding. With a hard stare, he turned on his spot and left Elizabeth's room to retreat back to his.

Elizabeth peered past Angelus to watch her sire leave, only to be drawn back into their conversation as Angelus knelt down in front of her and peered at her at eye level. This caused her to smile and blush.

"I can't wait to see you in it," he smiled.

┼†‡

Meanwhile, Drusilla was sitting at the vanity as she prepared herself for that evening. Spike strode in behind her, undeniably agitated. "What is it, love? You anxious you aren't able to join me out for the night's prowl?" She turned in her chair to see him sulking as she pinned back the curls from her face, "You'll be well soon enough; you'll need to rest up to save your strength."

Spike turned to her and gave her a look that was partial to a scowl and a frown. Taking to his board, he scrawled down his thoughts before handing it to her: ' _Angelus and Elizabeth were invited to a Christmas Eve party. Did you know anything about this?_ '

"Oh, a party, I love parties," she sang, her smile broadening.

' _We're not invited._ ' Spike added.

"But why not?" Drusilla's voice dipped down to a soft whine, her brows turning inward into a frown.

Spike scribbled down his response before hunching down in front of her. He smiled: ' _Not to worry, love, we'll find a way to let ourselves in._ '

Drusilla laughed at that and pulled him into a loving kiss.

┼†‡

"Shall we head out on an early start?" Angelus suggested, offering his arm to Elizabeth. As he stood, Elizabeth's gaze followed his face. She took his arm with a nod.

When they approached the front door, Drusilla began to descend the staircase. Angelus stopped and turned to her direction, "Still alone for the evening, Dru?"

"I made sure William stays in for the night. Don't want him all tuckered out than he should be," she said with a firm and resolute nod.

Angelus paused as he glanced over her, "You're looking rather lovely on this fine night out. Why aren't you wearing your brooch? It'd do well to compliment your outfit."

Drusilla beamed at him, "You think so? Hmm, yes, I'll go and throw it on then." She smiled at the two of them before turning on her spot and trotted back up the stairs.

Angelus watched her go with some fatherly amusement, then continued out the door.

┼†‡

That evening, the pair returned earlier than usual, though their time spent together was anything but rushed. Languid strolls through the quaint and quiet dark streets of the city only added to the romantic atmosphere of their endless topic of conversations. The absence of light allowed their budding romance to flourish as their walk was peppered with occasional pauses of tender kisses. But as their night came to an end, they returned to their homestead, with some small reluctance on Elizabeth's part.

Nearing the estate doors, Angelus drifted to a more appropriate distance, only keeping to the proper etiquette of escorting her on his arm. They looked nothing more than merry friends when they finally pushed past the doors.

"I hope you had a fine evening, my dear Lizzy," he smiled at her, "but I'll have to tend to some personal matters now. Till tomorrow?"

Elizabeth softly sighed as her expression dimmed, "Of course. Goodnight," she peered up at him and mustered a larger smile.

Giving her hand a small squeeze, Angelus left her standing in the vestibule.

Still beaming with the glow of a young woman in love, Elizabeth headed upstairs to her room as she hummed to herself. She settled into her room and took down her hair, deciding she'd do some reading before turning in.

┼†‡

Drusilla had brought home another treat for her lover, a girl fit for his liking- young, nubile, full of life and aspirations- someone who was not unlike Elizabeth. As Spike suckled on her neck, Drusilla watched in good humour before getting up from her seat and walked to the door.

Spike paused to glance up at her, wondering where she could be heading having just returned. Letting the girl flop from his grasp, he quickly rose from the bed and followed her. He took her by the arm, prompting her to face him. Drusilla turned towards him as he switched back to his human form. His eyes were imploring, curious, and held an inevitable glint of worry. He didn't need words, just his expression alone revealed what he was thinking.

"I'm hungry," Drusilla replied, staring back into his eyes.

Spike frowned, his brows creasing all the more as he thought, ' _But you just ate._ '

"Not that appetite, love," she caressed the side of his face lovingly.

Then he knew. He knew _exactly_ what she meant by that. It was the very thing he had been worried about the whole time- since the moment she had left him for Angelus, and now again when he was too weak.

He shook his head. He grasped her hand and cradled his face into her cool palm as he kissed her there; his expression dipped into sadness as he clung to her.

"Don't worry, sweet William, I'll return. You just need to save up your strength, yes?" she said dotingly, tracing her fingertips along the fringe of his curls.

Even with words, there was nothing he could say. He looked to her, no longer showing that desperation he had as a man; he buried the despair he had boiling beneath his skin and merely blinked in acknowledgement. Moving forward, he kissed her, deeply passionate as he held her pressed close to him, like he was saying his farewells on the departure platform.

When she had stepped away from him, Drusilla smiled, "No need to wait up for me, love. Go to bed when you're tired."

Once the door was closed and he could no longer hear her footsteps, he grabbed the empty wine bottles on the dresser and threw them hard across the room, one after the other. They smashed high against the wall, allowing tiny shards to scatter downward like a waterfall of needles.

┼†‡

Elizabeth jerked her head up and stared at the wall that separated her from her sire's room. She was used to hearing sounds emanating from there, but never shattering glass. It was with the time she had spent with her unconventional family, that she had taught herself to ignore them and ask no questions. Having broken her concentration at gazing at the sketches Angelus had made of her, she sat up from her bed and carefully tucked them into her bedside drawer.

Now dressed in her nightgown, she pulled the covers aside and slipped beneath the sheets as she situated herself comfortably against the headboard and pillows. She opened the mark from her current book and with her other hand, reached for the tea she had requested earlier that sat steeping on her nightstand. With a soft sigh, she took a sip and proceeded to read, finally finding the peace and quiet she so desired.

┼†‡

It was unbearable for Spike to be alone at that moment, knowing what Drusilla was going to do. He needed a distraction, any sort of company to save his mind from wandering. He turned to glance at the tapestry that hung on the wall. Without much hesitation, he trudged towards it and swept it aside. Grasping the handle, he turned it with a flick of his wrist and pushed through the door into Elizabeth's room.

Elizabeth glanced up from her book, alerted this time from the uninvited intrusion.

Seeing Elizabeth all cosy and ready for bed, Spike walked up to her without any explanation as he grabbed hold of her forearm and forcibly hoisted her up.

"W-William?" Elizabeth stared at her sire in alarm.

Spike pulled her along, causing her to catch herself as she stumbled forward.

"What are you-"

He let her go after they had entered his adjoining room.

After her small state of bewilderment, Elizabeth stood in place and quietly watched her sire move away to his dresser as he took hold of two glass tumblers and a bottle of cognac- an item she assumed he had managed to get himself. He plopped on the bed and poured a couple fingers worth in each, then glanced at her as he lifted up one of the glasses for her to take.

Elizabeth slowly stepped forward and took it with hesitation. She glanced around at the state of his room- stacks of books arranged in a semblance of miniature arched junctions across the expanse of the floor; the body of a dead girl who lay flopped over on her side, just behind where her sire sat on the bed, and most likely remnants of his supper; and shards of broken bottles in one corner of the room, the cause of those sounds she had heard earlier, she surmised. With this strange disarray, it rather begged the question what her former bedridden and recovering sire had been up to in his free time.

Elizabeth carefully stepped over the clutter of books as she carried a chair closer towards the bed. Setting it across from where her sire sat, she seated herself. With her drink cupped in her hands, she quietly observed him before she took a sip of the fiery liquid. "Why… did you bring me here?" she asked as a little look of suspicion, concern, and curiosity crossed her face.

Spike threw his head back as he gulped down the cognac in one fell swoop. Darting a look of annoyance at Elizabeth, he pulled the writing board from behind him and hastily wrote down a reply before tossing it into her lap: ' _Can't a vampire have drinking company without so many questions?_ ' His writing was sloppy and the ink had smudged across the page and the side of his hand. He poured himself another glass as Elizabeth sat in her own confusion.

Elizabeth nodded and continued to sip her drink. She held her half finished glass in her lap and handed the board back, "Feeling any better?" she asked.

' _What makes you think I wasn't before? I'm grand._ ' Spike had jotted down; he took to refilling her tumbler without her permission. Pushing himself up with drink in hand, he set the bottle of cognac aside at the foot of the bed and walked towards the dresser. There, he picked up a top hat- something he had been pestering Elizabeth to find for the better half of the other day. He emptied his glass and set it down, leaving his hands free to spin the hat between his palms. He stopped it by grabbing the brim, then let it drop on the floor just a few metres from the end of the bed. Taking the deck of cards with him, Spike sank back onto the bed and beckoned for Elizabeth to join him.

Elizabeth watched him curiously from where she sat, only arching herself upward in her chair when he gestured for her to come forward. More curious to see what he had meant to do with the hat, she got up and sat by him on the bed.

Cutting the deck, Spike set one half on the bed and dragged it towards Elizabeth. Without question, she took the cards as her curiosity bloomed; her face was a mixture of interest and confusion. Elizabeth lifted her gaze to her sire as he picked up one card and looked to her. He immediately lay back against the bed and allowed his head to hang over the edge. Focusing on his target, he extended his arm and flicked the card towards the hat- it fluttered in. He glanced at his progeny and sat back up, grimacing slightly at the slight adjustment of positions. Spike picked up another card and glanced down at the deck in front of her, then looked up at her as he expected her to follow in his actions.

With a small, amused laugh, Elizabeth lay back just as he had and flicked her card, only to watch as it precariously landed on the brim. Biting down on her lip, she watched as it swayed like a tightrope walker till gravity decided to tip it in her favour. Elizabeth laughed at her small victory and sat up as she looked to her sire, letting her fingers drum against the stack of her cards as she waited to see what else he had to offer.

Spike gave a nod at her small feat. He looked about the room before his eyes settled on Drusilla's hairbrush. He got up and took ahold of it- as well as his empty glass- and moved it to a small table where they could both see it in plain view. He returned to the bed to refill his empty vessel, then set the writing board into his lap.

Spike sat in silence as he wrote, taking draughts of his cognac as though to aid in his thoughts; only the sound of his pen scratching against the paper filled the room. After a few minutes, he paused briefly to glance up at Elizabeth, then resumed writing.

Elizabeth had been quietly and patiently waiting to see what her sire was scribbling down, but his sudden and perceptive glance at her had taken her by surprise. She blinked rapidly in response and held her glass to her lips. Though he had already directed his gaze down, she could feel the heat of her blush betray her as it spread over her cheeks- that, or she could blame it on the drink. She sipped at it languidly with her eyes cast downward.

Spike handed the board to her shortly after. He watched her as he waited for her to finish reading it.

' _Let's play a game, shall we? As you've already established, the main objective is to get the card into the hat whilst lying down on one's back. Though, with each round, it is required to get three cards in. After you manage that, you must run and fetch the hairbrush before the other opponent reaches it and return it to the home position- the bed. After the succession of each round, the distance of the hat and brush is placed farther away, making it more challenging for both opponents._

' _Stakes for the winner for each round: imparting a small dare to his lesser compatriot. For example: running a turn out in the hallway with a cup of tea without spilling a drop. Now, shall we begin?_ '

A smile spread across Elizabeth's face as she read the instructions, "Sounds like fun," she said as she lifted her head to look at her sire.

Spike idly sipped his cognac as he watched Elizabeth's expression change into one of delight. That wasn't exactly what he had expected, considering how adamant and fearful she had been when they were playing Irish Poker. Well, he wondered how she would fare with this game. Maybe her luck would turn around with this new one.

Spike set his glass down on the floor just below him as he stationed himself on his back next to her. Elizabeth's braid audibly plopped down on the floor as she too, got ready, giddy with childish anticipation.

Armed with his half of the deck within his right hand, and one card steadied between the index and middle finger of his left, Spike let his arm lay outstretched and idle as his eye remained on the target. Then, with a quick jerk, he kicked the side of Elizabeth's leg as a sign that they start. He aimed at the hat as he flicked the cards towards it, managing to get one in on the first try, but somehow having his consecutive shots preempted by Elizabeth's.

Finding a steady rhythm, Elizabeth concentrated on her aim rather than how quickly she could dole them out. In due time, she had managed to get three in before her sire and was off the bed, leaving him scrambling to sink the other cards before she could reach the brush. She giggled as she ran towards it.

It was much easier without having her missiles launched in his path as he managed to flick his last remaining two in. Finally scurrying off the bed in pursuit after her, Spike halted to see Elizabeth reach the brush. She fled past him and back to the bed.

Elizabeth sat perched on the edge as she tapped the brush in her hand. With a triumphant grin plastered across her face, she waited for her sire to return.

Spike rolled his eyes as he sauntered back to the bed, feigning indifference and giving a small shrug of a shoulder. He beckoned with one hand to her, letting her know that she should just lay down her form of punishment so that he could get it over and done with quickly.

Elizabeth laughed at his sullen behaviour. Pausing, she tapped on her lip as she tried to think of something she would want him to do. With a small nod of her head and a childish laugh, she turned to him, "You have to spin four times, then keep a book on your head for ten seconds."

Spike gave a curt nod and turned to pick up one of the heavy leather bound books off the dresser. He stood in place and spun four times on his spot with it clutched to his chest, then stopped; Elizabeth watched with delight. Pulling the edition away from his body with a swift jerk of his hands, Spike placed it above his head and slowly lowered it down as though he were crowning himself. Once it was securely balanced, he stood stock-still as he released the book, only marginally altering the position of his arms as he had them outstretched in front of him. He started to count each second with his fingers, slowly plucking one up at a time as he stared at his progeny. Feeling the book start to wobble when he had just two remaining seconds, he scrunched up his face- then it was done. The book fell into Spike's grasp as soon as the ten seconds was over. He glanced down at the volume, then with a quirked brow, looked at his progeny. It was a wonder how women managed to balance those things whilst walking when he could barely keep it steady standing in place.

He set the book aside before sweeping his drink off the floor and finished it off, nudging at the hat with his foot to widen the distance from the bed. Then, he walked to the brush and set it at the farther end of the table. Returning to refill his glass, he set it down on the floor once more and flopped down on his back. Elizabeth also leaned back.

For this round, though he was a little more drunk, Spike's furious yet poor attempts at card flinging weren't as bad as his opponent's. Elizabeth scrunched up her nose as she tried hard with her aim, but Spike had managed to get his cards in before she did. He shot off the bed and sprinted to the brush, then triumphantly paraded it back to the bed.

Elizabeth sat up with worry. She could not help but bite her lip out of nervousness as her sire lightly bounced on the bed top and grinned at her.

After a short moment of gloating, Spike set the writing board in his lap and penned down his dare with a smirk. He handed it to Elizabeth when he was done.

' _Head off to the kitchen and steal the end loaf of today's bread without getting noticed._ '

As she read this, Elizabeth almost seemed relieved that that was all she had to do. Given the hour, the servants would have already had their supper and most of the cleaning done, which would only leave a few of the kitchen staff for next day's preparations, Elizabeth reasoned. Even with the few remaining, the task wouldn't pose difficult. Elizabeth would attribute this to her increased speed and stealth as of late, all from the guidance of Angelus as he mentored her on her hunts each night.

As she sat mulling this over, Spike stood from the bed and watched her with a wide grin. There was no way he was going to miss her performance as he sat in the room waiting for her to return- he was going to watch her do it.

Finally collecting her thoughts, Elizabeth stood and headed to the door; Spike trailed behind her as she trekked downstairs.

┼†‡

When she reached the kitchen, she stood outside of it and braced herself against the wall, blending herself well in the dark shadows- Spike stood crouched behind her as he peeked from around her side. She waited until a maid walked out, allowing her to examine the inside of the room before the door slowly swung shut. Elizabeth slowly crept forward and pushed the door ajar.

There were two maids that she could see- one walked past with a pot of water, the other stood scrubbing the counter. A loud conversation between a man and woman was heard over the sound of clatter- two more bodies she could account for, but not of importance if she could avoid keeping out of their sight. Waiting for the scrubbing maid to move to the other end of the room, Elizabeth finally had her opportunity and quietly slipped in; Spike remained crouched at the doorway as he watched her from afar.

Being dressed in her nightgown allowed Elizabeth more freedom as she nimbly ducked low, peeking over the counters to find where they kept their bread. Her eyes searched for a bread box- she stopped short and immediately sank down behind a cupboard as the maid walked back with her pot, now filled with dirty water. Elizabeth's gaze followed her as she walked into an adjoining room- the pantry. _Of course!_ she thought.

Turning her head towards the kitchen door, she noticed the glint of her sire's judging gaze and arched brow. She ignored him and turned her attention back to the task at hand, slowly creeping back onto her feet as she skittered forward.

It was then as she neared the pantry entrance that she noticed a half loaf of bread sitting on the counter. She couldn't help but smile as she took hold of it. Hearing another maid coming towards her, Elizabeth clutched the bread close to her chest like a common thief and slipped out the kitchen door.

"Eh, Jean-Marc, did you take it?"

"What? Your virginity?" a male's voice erupted in laughter.

"The bread. I left it on the counter here. It's gone, now."

"Ah, you're just getting old; forgetting where you've placed things."

"No, I still remember when you last bathed! Must have been a rat. The last one I saw was larger than my foot!"

┼†‡

Spike had been quietly and impatiently waiting for Elizabeth to return. Seeing her nearly running towards the doors with the bread in her hands, he stepped back and waited for her to emerge. It appeared he had made this challenge too easy for her, he thought as he gazed up at the ceiling. He turned to her when she returned, only to have Elizabeth immediately shove the loaf into his chest as she relieved her teeth from hinging her lips together and cupped a speedy hand over her mouth.

She giggled from the sheer excitement- though simple and silly- at not getting caught, and at the departing conversation she had overheard from the kitchen staff. It seemed she had been promoted from small mouse to large rat.

They didn't have much of a reprieve when they heard the sound of a couple of maids making their way towards where they stood. With loaf within his clutches, Spike grabbed hold of Elizabeth's hand and took off down the halls like they were naughty children out past their bedtime. Elizabeth kept in pace as she continued to giggle beneath the mask of her hand. She was having far too much fun.

┼†‡

Returning to the comforts of his room, Spike released his hold. He tore off a piece of bread and started to eat it as he nudged the hat farther away once more. This time, he set the brush on top of the dresser.

Finally getting ahold of her laughter, Elizabeth sat on the bed with a wide grin as she waited for her sire to join her. Spike sat on the bed and lay down like before- with the loaf wedged between him and his progeny; Elizabeth followed suit. He glanced to her as he chewed; she returned his stare with an amused smile. Once he swallowed, he gave her a kick. They both jerked their heads towards the hat and started firing their cards.

As Elizabeth sank her cards, Spike had just run out of his before he could get his last one in.

"Yes!" Elizabeth cried triumphantly, having successfully gotten all three.

Spike sat up and watched as she shot off the bed and returned with her trophy in hand.

She hopped back onto the bed like an excited child, "Got it!" Elizabeth waved the brush in the air as she grinned.

' _That isn't fair! I ran out of cards before I could get my third one in!_ ' Spike had written on his board.

Elizabeth smiled as she shook her head, "I won and that is that."

Spike shook his head and bowed his head, thinking he'd probably get her the next time and would allow her a free pass. He waved a hand at her, his way of agreeing that she just go on and tell him what she wanted from him.

Elizabeth tapped her cheek in thought, "Hmm… what to do, what to do…," she glanced around the room. Her gaze fell to Drusilla's dolls. Smiling, she turned back to her sire, "You must carry one of the dolls in your arms, head downstairs around the vestibule, and through the gardens. Once there, pick a flower, then carry both items- doll and flower- through the kitchen. You shall return after you have completed this," she said with a mischievous giggle. She knew she was risking her own vulnerability should her sire win on their next round, but for the time being, that was a sight worth seeing, and an opportunity that was worth her own humility.

Spike folded his arms across his chest as he listened to her demands, then quirked a high ridged brow at her. He only carried Drusilla's dolls when he was accompanying her, never when he was alone- he wasn't the one that was mad in the head. And he was a man for crying out loud! He bowed his head as he brought his hand to his face, stretching his fingers across to rub at his temples. Lifting his gaze, he narrowed his eyes at Elizabeth as though to ask her: ' _How dare you….'_

Elizabeth met his glare with a cheeky little grin.

Nonetheless, Spike marched over to the vanity and picked up Drusilla's precious Miss Edith and had it nestled safely in the crook of his arm. Elizabeth hopped off the bed in hot pursuit as he headed out the room like he was on a mission. He trudged down the halls and stairwell, then out the front door, leaving it wide open.

┼†‡

Oh, if Angelus could see him now, he wouldn't hear the end of it. The thought of his sire crossing his mind instilled a little anger in him and only made him move quicker.

As Spike entered the gardens, he was surprised to find that even though they were midway through December, there were still flowers abloom, and quite vibrantly, too. One in particular drew him in, especially with its fragrant scent. He had seen quite a few of it around- bright yellow and balls of it clustered together on branches. They grew fairly high, but they didn't appear to be trees, rather more like overgrown shrubs; the leaves appeared to be frond-like, like they were ferns. He peeked at the flowers in question, noticing that the petals weren't very petal-like at all in the traditional sense, but were composed of many tiny filaments like the inner parts of a flower. He broke off a small branch of it and sidled it next to Miss Edith before readying himself for his next humiliating roundabout the estate.

Heading back through the open doors, Spike rounded his way into the kitchen, and to his dismay, found that there were still some lingering workers there. They stopped what they were doing and stared at him in utter surprise.

"Bonsoir, Monsieur," one of the elder staff maids curtsied at him, remaining professional. Her eyes slightly widened in surprise when the younger female guest followed behind him in nothing but her nightgown. "Bonsoir, Mademoiselle," she quietly recovered from her mishap and curtsied again. The younger ones followed suit, but were less elegant at hiding their amused smiles and curiosity.

There wasn't exactly a way to go about avoiding his current predicament, so Spike merely pretended he had meant to come through- in his sloppy dress, doll, and bouquet of yellow flowers.

The younger women quietly giggled as they watched, wondering what they were doing and what sort of strange English game they were playing.

Finally having encircled the entirety of the grand kitchen, Spike left through the back doorway to walk along the halls, then back around to the vestibule, up the stairs, and back into the safety of his bedroom. Elizabeth followed closely behind with a happy smile on her face.

┼†‡

Spike carefully returned Miss Edith in its spot and set the flowers down in front of the two dolls on the vanity. He turned to look at Elizabeth with a look that challenged- he was going to get her back for that act of humiliation.

He poured himself another shot of cognac and swallowed it down before collecting the cards off the floor, then split them between the two. He nudged the hat farther still, and picked up the brush, placing it this time on top of the wardrobe.

Nestling back on their appropriate sides of the bed, they lay back. Once prepared, Spike gave Elizabeth the mandatory kick.

He might have been drunker, but that little trip had driven some determination into him as though he had some prize waiting for him at the end of it all. Elizabeth's eyes widened as she watched her sire sink his cards in. Once he got his third, Spike jumped from his spot and ran towards the wardrobe.

"No, no, _no!_ " Elizabeth cried, being two cards away.

Spike nearly stubbed his toe in the calamity of his pursuit, but quickly recovered and hopped back towards the bed. Elizabeth sat up in dismay and watched as her sire stood on top of the sheets; he raised the brush above his head in victory before pointing down at her as he leered.

Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh, "Yes, you've won," she said with a shake of her head. "Well? What is it this time?" she asked, feeling good humoured despite her loss; she handed him the writing board.

Spike settled himself as he bounced down onto the bed. Happily receiving the board, he grinned at Elizabeth as he pondered what sorts of things he could put her through. He brought the end of the pen to his upturned lips as ideas swirled in his head, then he began to write:

' _It is your turn to make a round through the servants' quarters. Once you encounter someone, you must engage in a conversation with him for two minutes- I'll alert you when the time is up with two loud knocks. Throughout that duration, you may speak about anything-- however, under certain circumstances, you must say the following phrases when a given subject arises:_

' _One: whenever someone addresses you with a question, you must reply with, "I want cheese";_

' _Two: whenever someone addresses you by the formality of "Mademoiselle", you must say to them with the utmost vigour and enthusiasm, "Happy birthday!";_

' _Three: when they bid you good evening or night, you must give them a kiss upon the cheek._

' _Throughout the course of this event, you must not explain what it is you're doing or break character.'_

Spike was grinning too broadly at Elizabeth as he handed her his short list of instructions.

A look of embarrassment crossed Elizabeth's face as she read this, but she could not help but giggle at how childish their dares were. "I-I don't think I could keep a straight face," her cheeks reddened with just the thought of doing those things.

Despite how juvenile the situation entirely was, Spike appeared extremely happy and pleased with himself about it. He grinned as he trotted towards the door, even opening it for Elizabeth to allow her out first. She reluctantly stood from the bed and walked out past her sire as he gleamed a Cheshire grin and followed behind.

┼†‡

They walked down the halls. Though they were dark, quiet, and vacant, Spike could hear some life still walking amongst them. When he heard some quiet whispers coming up from ahead of them, he jabbed at Elizabeth's shoulder to alert her so she could prepare herself. Giving her a little push forward, he scooted behind the shadow of a looming doorway and peeked out from behind it as he saw two maids passing together in the halls in quiet conversation.

They glanced up suddenly as they saw Elizabeth seeming to catch herself in front of them.

"Ah, good evening, Mademoiselle." They both looked to her in surprise; one clutched at her chest as she was somewhat startled by her sudden appearance.

Pivoting her body to block her face from her sire's view, Elizabeth gave both of them a slightly apologetic look before kissing each of them on the cheek.

The women looked to her in surprise as she greeted them so warmly.

"Happy birthday!" Elizabeth turned to each of them and cried with childish enthusiasm, all the while digging her nails into her fist behind her back. She bowed her head briefly as she breathed under a masked chuckle, "I hate you."

┼†‡

As Spike spied from afar, he almost missed his timing when Elizabeth was already thrown into the task. He snorted as he fought back his laughter, but instead was trapped with the sound of a low moan in his throat. Damn that he couldn't laugh and risk the pain and suffering of his lung afterwards.

Spike grinned as he caught Elizabeth's contemptuous whisper of words.

┼†‡

The maids glanced to each other.

"I did not know it was your birthday."

"No, it isn't. Is it yours?"

"No."

They both looked to each other again before turning to the mistress in front of them, "We believe you've mistaken, Mademoiselle, it is neither of our birthdays. Where did you hear this from?"

Spike bit at his fist as he heard that they had asked her a question.

Elizabeth clenched her hand tighter, already preparing to run after the conversation was over. She glanced up at the ceiling as if to beg for mercy, when she thought back to the instructions; a small smile came to her face.

"I suppose I have," she looked back to them with a pleasant smile. "Forgive me, it was in bad judgement that I wished the both of you a 'happy birthday!'" the volume of her speaking voice amplified in cheery enthusiasm on the last two words like before. She returned to normalcy, looking congenial as ever. "Hmm, strange," she tilted her head in thought, "I want cheese. I always get peckish at this time of night," she said with a little laugh. Despite her cheery demeanour, inwardly, she begged for the time to go by faster.

"'Cheese'?" The two maids covered their mouths as they giggled and looked to one another, not realising that Elizabeth had inadvertently avoided their question altogether.

"That is a strange thing to want at this time of night," the other commented. "I sometimes crave for a nibble of something sweet."

"Would you… like us to get some cheese for you, Mademoiselle?" the other maid asked tentatively, now wondering why she was hovering around the servants' quarters.

Spike stifled another giggle as he bit down on his knuckles harder, glancing down at the pocketwatch within his hand as the seconds counted down.

There was no way in the world that her dare warranted this torture, Elizabeth thought to herself, resisting the urge to run away before her time was up. "No, thank you, just because I want cheese at such a strange time does not mean you should go out of your way to fetch it for me. That was very kind of you to ask though," she nodded encouragingly at the maid's hesitation.

"Oh, it is no trouble at all," the maid replied, giving her a kind smile, "it is our duty to serve you after all."

"The one whose birthday is today… I've forgotten the person's name…," Elizabeth scrunched up her nose in thought as she glanced up, "but a happy birthday all the same!" she said with renewed vigour.

The other maid blinked at her, now starting to feel a little uncomfortable with this strange display coming from a lady, "Ah, I see… I am not aware of anyone else in the quarters who shares a birthday today," she said with an awkward smile.

Spike gripped the doorframe as he saw how embarrassing the situation was starting to get, but didn't have time to ponder what else would take place when her time was up. He knocked twice against the door, alerting Elizabeth that her two minutes of torture- as well as the maids'- had ended.

The maids glanced up at the sound and spotted Spike peeking out from behind one of the distant doorways; Elizabeth immediately dashed off with no other words.

┼†‡

Ducking behind the bend next to her sire, she playfully hit him on the arm, "I. Bloody. _Hate_. You," she said with a reluctant smile on her face.

Spike grinned at her and responded by puckering up his lips in the air with a kiss before snorting and having his laughter once again cut off by the stabbing pain in his chest. He clutched at his shirt and moaned. _It isn't fair,_ he thought, not being able to laugh in her face at her misfortune. He rather thought he was in a worse position than she.

Straightening himself back up after a moment of recovery, Spike smirked as he began to walk back towards his room, giving her a nudge with his elbow and a suggestive lift of his brow. He could relive that moment in his mind years from now if he needed a good laugh.

┼†‡

Once entering the room, the hat was moved a little farther away, and this time, the brush was placed at the doorway. Sire and progeny settled back down on the bed as they prepared for their next round.

It was a little challenging this time to get the cards in, but Spike managed somehow, possibly from the high he was coasting off on from his previous victory. Elizabeth, on the other hand, appeared to slow from her streak of bad luck. Spike was also starting to gloat more with his second consecutive win after he brought the brush back to the bed.

Tapping his fingers on his chin, he looked to his progeny, pondering what sort of torture he could put her through.

Elizabeth smiled at him and clasped her hands together as if to beg for a lighter form of punishment.

As an idea began to formulate in his mind, his eyes widened ever so slightly and a slow smile spread across his face. He got up and walked to the dresser and began to pull things out of the drawers- a shirt, a pair of trousers, a tie, and a vest- before bringing the bundle of clothes to her. Shoving them into Elizabeth's awaiting arms, Spike smiled as he pointed towards the changing screen, indicating that she go and change into them as he had plans for what to do next.

Elizabeth looked to him curiously but did as she was directed. After she had fully changed out of her nightgown and into his clothes, she emerged from behind the screen and grinned at him, "How do I look?" she held her arms out away from her body.

Spike bit his lip. She was much too small and positively swimming in his clothes. Grabbing the neglected suspenders he had left on the vanity, he affixed them to the trousers and adjusted them so that they fit her more snuggly. He gave her a wary look as he began to undo the tie that she had knotted, then starting fresh, began to expertly retie the knot and nudged it upwards till it was also snug at the collar of her neck. Flipping the collar down, Spike walked around her as he inspected what else was out of place before he went to get his coat and held it out for her as she slipped it on. He walked away once more and returned with his much-too-big Oxford shoes for her to wear. He grinned as he thought how awkward she was going to walk in those.

Giving her another sweeping glance, he squinted his eyes at her when he realised what she needed to top off the entire ensemble. He scooped the top hat off the floor and emptied out the cards, giving it a little shake to make sure they had all come out, then walked over behind her and plopped it low onto her head. Being too big for her, it ended up falling down past her forehead. Spike snorted and clung at his chest as he walked around in front of her to admire his handiwork. Oh, God, if only she could see her own reflection, he thought. She looked like a boy wearing his father's outfit.

Spike went to his writing board and handed it to her, now that she was all set and ready to go about her task.

' _Head into the kitchen and behave as though nothing is amiss-- this is your normal attire; you aren't dressed as a man, you_ _are_ _a man. Exchange pleasantries if you must, but do not make any comment of your state of dress. As before, remain in character and ask them to make you a sandwich. Once they've finished making your meal, return with the item in hand._ '

Elizabeth sighed. "May I at least take off this hat? I cannot see," she pulled it off her head, only to have her sire nab her at the nape of her collar. She yelped in startlement.

Coming around to face her, Spike replaced the hat on her head, adjusting it so that the brim just nestled above her brows and allowed her clear vision; the back of hat rested against her neck, leveraging out the weight, but making it a balancing act for her.

Elizabeth sighed once more and scowled sourly at her sire before she shuffled out slowly, now trying to manage to keep both the shoes on her feet from slipping off, and the hat from sliding forward over her eyes.

Spike followed behind.

┼†‡

When Elizabeth entered the kitchen, it appeared as though no one was present- till a maid walked by with a sack of flour in her arms.

Catching the sight of a man out of the corner of her eye, the maid dropped the bag out of alarm, but soon realised that it wasn't a small man at all- it was a woman dressed in men's clothing. "O-oh…, Mademoiselle," she gasped, clutching at her chest, "you startled me," she took a moment as she glanced over her outfit- sleeves drooping past her hands, and the hem of her trousers almost dragging against the floor if they hadn't been resting atop of the overly large and comical shoes- but she said nothing. "Is… something wrong?"

Spike had pushed his toe up against the door, allowing him to spy on Elizabeth from a safe distance.

Elizabeth smiled and adjusted her hat as it threatened to slip over her eyes, "Nothing at all," she said, lowering her voice as she did her best to mimic the sound of a man.

Spike bit as his knuckles as he watched her fumble.

"And why are you addressing me as 'Mademoiselle'? I am a man; you shall address me as 'Monsieur'," Elizabeth nodded in all seriousness.

For a moment, the maid did nothing but stare back at her, dumbfounded as she blinked. Finally finding her voice, she replied, "Would you… like anything, Madem- pardon me- Monsieur?"

Spike gripped the edge of the door.

"Come to think of it, a sandwich would be lovely, if it isn't any trouble," Elizabeth continued gruffly, acting as though nothing was strange at all.

"What was that? Why have you dropped the flour, girl?" the elder kitchen maid from earlier that evening walked over before she noticed Elizabeth standing there.

"W-what is this?" she looked to her in surprise. "Mademoiselle, I almost didn't realise you were a woman under all that. What are you doing? It isn't so lady-like for you to dress in that way, eh?" she pointed at her attire, not bothering to hold back her tongue.

Spike choked back a laugh as he could tell from her tone what was happening.

Even though Elizabeth had dreaded having a larger audience with her given circumstance, she didn't miss a beat at the elder woman's expense. "'Woman'? 'Lady-like'? The only women I see are the two standing before me," she smiled at them and carefully bowed her head.

Standing with her mouth agape, the woman stared back at Elizabeth with wide eyes.

"Um, Madam…," the maid leaned in closer to her superior as she lowered her voice, "it appears the mademoiselle is playing some game and would like to be addressed as 'Monsieur'."

"Nonsense!" the elder woman retorted after listening to what she had to say.

"The Monsieur would like for us to prepare a sandwich for him," she smiled nervously, glancing to Elizabeth before turning back to her superior.

"And eating at such an hour? No, no, no! This is not what a lady does at all!"

"That is a good thing that I am a man!" Elizabeth laughed.

" _S'il vous_ _plaît, Mademoiselle, f_ _ini de faire l'andouille,_ " the old maid sighed, requesting she stop acting the fool.

Oddly enough, Elizabeth took comfort in the elder woman's scolding, finding it bittersweet that the nitpicking that she went through growing up and as a young woman was missed now that she was a vampire. She smile warmly at her as if she were looking at her mother.

Looking between the two women, Elizabeth took off her hat and tossed it into the air with theatrical flair, "We all need a little fun," she caught it in her other hand as she winked, "now and then," she finished with a bright grin. Replacing the hat on her head, she adjusted it when it inevitably fell once more over her eyes.

The elder woman watched with little amusement, while the younger maid smiled in delight and gave a small applause. Elizabeth dipped her head in acknowledgement towards her.

"What are you going on about, Mademoiselle? You're behaving like you haven't been raised with manners at all," she said in awe; the young woman abruptly stopped clapping as she frowned at her superior.

Elizabeth's nostalgic smile only persisted at the woman's lecturing.

"Come along now, you should get out of those clothes before someone else sees you and head on to bed." The old maid paused as she looked to her junior, "And pick up this sack off the floor, girl. We'll need to prepare for tomorrow's bread if you want breakfast served on time," she barked before turning and walking away.

"Yes, Madam," she said, hefting up the flour and breathing a heavy sigh. She smiled at Elizabeth and giggled, "I thought that was lovely. Let me ask the chef if he can prepare you that sandwich you requested," she whispered. "I'll bring it over as soon as it is done- Monsieur," she added with a wink before quickly walking off as soon as the old maid started to call for her again.

"Merci," Elizabeth whispered back. She stepped out of the kitchen with a little laugh.

Spike moved away from the doors when Elizabeth returned. He looked to her questionably at her empty hands, imploring her with his own empty palms why she had no sandwich with her.

"I had a little run in with the head maid. Not to worry though, the younger maid told me she will have it brought over as soon as possible," she said with a smile before the hat blinded her again. "May we… return upstairs now?" she asked tentatively as she pulled the hat back up on her head.

Spike rolled his eyes at the sound of her whining.

Just then, the door pushed open and knocked him from behind, hitting him against the back of his head. Spike took a step forward as he rubbed at the spot, being caught off guard as he was too distracted from his annoyance with his progeny.

"O-oh! Pardon me, Madem- Mon...sieur…?" the young maid realised that it wasn't Elizabeth that was standing in the way, but Spike, the actual 'monsieur'. She glanced up at him shyly and with embarrassment. Now finding the pair standing in her presence, she quickly glanced between the English guests, believing they were reenacting some strange custom, or playing some bizarre game in secret. She smiled brightly when she presented a couple of sliced sandwich wedges on a plate, "The chef had made a _pan-bagnat_ earlier today and there was more than enough left over. It is a specialty of our region."

Elizabeth smiled at her, "Thank you," her voice now returned to normal.

The young woman smiled in kind, only to immediately turn her head back when Spike began to lift the plate from underneath; he smiled at her as her eyes followed it. When their eyes met, she blushed, finding him a bit odd.

Now with sandwich in hand, Spike turned on his spot and began to walk away without another thought.

"U-um, I do hope you enjoy it, Mademoiselle- I mean, Monsieur," the maid turned back to Elizabeth as she gave her a smile.

With a nod and a smile, Elizabeth turned and hurried after her sire.

┼†‡

Once Spike returned to his room, he flopped down on the bed and set the plate on his lap. He lifted one of the wedges up as he tilted his head to examine what was stuck between the layers. After prodding it a little, he licked his finger, then proceeded with a bite. He chewed as he waited for Elizabeth to return.

Elizabeth shuffled back in after a few minutes, having almost tripped several times en route with the shoes and dragging trousers. She walked past her sire and made a beeline toward the changing screen, emerging shortly after in her nightgown, but with the hat still intact and balanced on her head. "What? I think this look will catch on someday, don't you?" she said with a laugh. She took it off and placed it farther away from the bed before sitting down next to her sire.

Spike merely peered at her as he chewed slowly, taking small breaks momentarily to see if he could risk a shallow breath to taste what he was eating. It was an interesting flavour with the prevalent taste of olives and salted fish. He would have enjoyed it a whole lot more if he still didn't have a hole in his lung, but for the most part, he did like what he was eating. He pushed the plate aside after he was halfway through the first sandwich, then dusted off his hands.

Taking the bottle off the floor, he washed down the food with the cognac and gave a small burp before picking up the brush in his hand. He motioned with his finger for Elizabeth to follow him as he got off the bed. As they walked out the door, he placed the brush a few metres down the hall. He looked to her so that he was sure she understood how far they had to run this time to get to it. Elizabeth nodded.

Returning to the room, Spike reassumed his spot on the bed. Now, with a loaf of bread and a partially eaten sandwich between them, Spike kicked her once more before sailing his cards towards the open target.

By then, his wrist had gotten quite sore doing that repetitive task, and as the distance was much greater, most of the cards ended up falling short in front of the hat. Finally, having almost run out of his stack, Spike got his last card in and shot up, just as Elizabeth had done so shortly after.

They scrambled up off the bed towards the door, shoving past each other as they both seemingly tripped over each other's feet. Elizabeth managed to push her way out into the hall and sprinted towards the brush. Spike, having the advantage of height and longer reach, lunged forward, risking a sustained injury for victory as he swiped the brush in his hand before her in a triumphant moan. He rolled over onto his back for a brief moment before pushing himself up and walking back into the room. Elizabeth trailed behind him and joined him on the bed

As Spike sat there, he wondered what to do; his smile was laced with a grimace and pain.

Elizabeth nervously tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "Please don't have me interact with anyone this time? I beg of you," she pleaded, her brows furrowing with worry. "Anything you wish, just… please don't make me go out there." Though she played along well, her sire's form of humour was beginning to wear on her.

Spike sat perched on the edge of the bed with one leg tucked beneath him and the other swinging freely. Swishing empty air between his cheeks, he glanced around the room to help him gather inspiration. His eyes fell to the croquet mallet that was left leaning against the wardrobe. Looking back to Elizabeth, he began to grin as he rose to go and pick it up. He hefted it in his hand a bit before returning to his spot and pulled the message board into his lap. He began to write his third consecutive mission for her:

' _For this third and charming quest, you are to march outside on the estate as the assumed identity of a foot soldier of the British Army, parading around his surveyed area. The mallet is your pistol, armed and loaded at your side, ready for firing._

' _You are to march forward fifty paces, stop, then pivot to your right. At this mark, you must announce in your loudest caller's voice: "I PRESENT TO YOU, HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN" before raising your "pistol" and firing a round into the sky. Reset your formation and continue forward for another twenty-five paces before pivoting to your right, and continue another fifty paces before stopping and repeat the aforementioned instructions._

' _Though, for the second announcement, you must say: "GET THEE TO A NUNNERY"._

' _After pivoting once more and taking another twenty-five paces to home, you must spin on your mark, "disarm your weapon", and salute._ '

Spike grinned broadly as he handed the board to Elizabeth; his face was starting to hurt.

There was no laughter or good humoured look on Elizabeth's face this time. She placed the board in her lap and rested her forehead in her palm as if to compose herself. The tasks before were embarrassing yet held a merit of fun, but this particular one was set outside for anyone- and God forbid, Angelus- to see her. Of course she could not tell her sire the reason for her wanting another task, but she also could not bring herself to do it either.

With her head bowed, Elizabeth looked lost in her thoughts, "I really don't want to do this," she said in all seriousness. Her blue eyes were cast down to her lap, "It is different than wearing something silly or acting strangely; I am completely at peace with you laughing at me because I know you," her voice was soft as she voiced her inner thoughts. "Do you know… what that's like?" she glanced up at him. "To trust a certain few, but around anyone else, you're terrified?" She started to laugh at herself as she shook her head, knowing well that he would only find her explanation annoying, that her outspoken feelings would fall on deaf ears.

The reason for these games was for distraction, and in a good part, as a means of entertainment. Spike did not want to be reminded of the bad that was taking place that night, but as Elizabeth started to spew out her woes and insecurities, the vampire started to get irritated, and his once good mood was starting to slip back into anger. He wanted to shake her, slap some sense into her. He wished he could speak at that moment to lecture her, but instead had to resort to writing, a medium where he probably couldn't convey all that he wished to say, or with the same intention and emphasis that he could in his voice.

He secured the writing board and slapped it down into his lap, and with intensely furrowed brows, he began to furiously scribble away.

Getting up, Elizabeth slipped away to her room to fetch her peignoir and returned at his door as she stood waiting for him.

Spike rose when he had finished and shoved the board to her. He stood in front of her with folded arms as he watched her read it.

' _Are you fundamentally flawed? Honestly, I think you've done more than hit your head when I left you dead that night. Lack of oxygen to the brain, perhaps? You are not human anymore! How many bloody times do I have to drill that notion into your thick skull! What do you have to be terrified about now? Look at what you are, what you've become; do you think if people_ _knew_ _what you really are, they would dare to threaten or intimidate you? A lesson in life or unlife-- bloody stop comparing yourself to what you_ _were_ _before because that is absolutely nothing to what you_ _are_ _now. Do you understand?_ '

There were many things that Elizabeth had said that Spike could have laughed in her face about. She had no idea who he was. Maybe that was reason why she felt comfortable enough to have him laugh at her, because this persona he had had inclinations of a personality that allowed him to do that, being forthright and outspoken, brash and uninhibited, brave and daring. Did he know what it was like to be terrified of others? He had been the most insecure person who had always doubted himself; he could only trust his mother and the doctor that treated her. Bloody hell did she know anything about anything. That was who he 'was' as a man.

' _You aren't swaddled and sheltered in your home anymore, so sodding break free from that mindset. What happened to your sense of adventure and dreams of performing? You think you're not under the scrutiny of others when you put on a show or do anything in life? That there's no judgement? Just because it isn't said to your face, you don't think there's some quiet form of it behind closed doors? Wake up and finally look at the world; this is what it's like._

' _Do things senselessly and without fear, or all you'll succumb to is your worry of "what-ifs" and the external ramifications of others' wills-- which is pointless. All that leads to is stagnant existence and nothingness._

' _And do it, because I won this round._ '

As Elizabeth read her sire's words, she could almost swear she heard his voice yelling inside her head. A smile slowly spread across her face when she had finished, as his words- strangely enough- resonated with her. She couldn't help but agree with him; he was right. "All the world's a stage," she whispered below her breath. Placing the board down, the good humoured smile returned to Elizabeth's face, even giving hint of an impending laugh.

Spike watched with folded arms and some surprise as she finally smiled. It seemed his words had finally made sense to her in some form.

"Let's go," she said, inclining her head towards the door.

He gave a nod in agreement, giving a small smile in return and a resounding clap. He picked up the croquet mallet and handed it to her before picking up the bottle of cognac for himself, then followed her to the front door.

┼†‡

Pushing the doors wide open, Spike grinned as he let Elizabeth walk out. He nestled himself up comfortably against one of the pillars outside the large facade. God, he hoped she'd be loud enough to wake someone up to watch her parade around like a fool.

As she went about her task, Elizabeth could not help but laugh at herself, as she was actually having fun at her own expense.

 _Oh, God, this is precious!_ Spike thought, watching Elizabeth try to be as serious as she could in her role as foot guard. He couldn't tear his eyes away, even whilst swigging from his bottle.

"I PRESENT TO YOU, HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN!" she yelled.

Spike almost spat out the cognac. He coughed and moaned and laughed all at the same time, feeling like he was drowning and unnecessarily hurting himself more than he should have been. Why did he decide embarrassing her and making himself laugh was a good idea? He clutched at his chest and bit at his knuckles as she paraded on, glancing back to the estate as he saw one light go on somewhere far off on another area of the mansion. He believed it to be close to the servants' quarters. He grinned, thinking that maybe someone had caught her act after all.

Elizabeth's voice didn't carry very far, but it wasn't from a lack of trying, as she pulled off her role very convincingly. Now that she had time to think about it, this wasn't as bad as the others because her voice wasn't very loud to begin with.

After she completed her task, Elizabeth swung the mallet over her shoulder with a little hop in her step and returned to her sire.

Spike began to applaud loudly, grinning with wide amusement at her ballsy display. He offered her the cognac.

Beaming at him, she took hold of the bottle and took a swig, albeit a small one.

They headed back into the manor, a little drunker, and with a little more humour on their heels.

┼†‡

There were a couple of small instances when Spike was reminded what Drusilla was up to at that moment, and his emotions and anger had bled into the game, adding to the coupled frustration he had for Elizabeth. But when things did go smoothly, he soon forgot, and found himself enjoying his progeny's company.

He emptied the last bit of cognac into his glass, shaking out the last few drops into his mouth, then let the empty bottle roll onto the floor. He was comfortably drunk at that moment and was in a happy place.

Picking up the brush, he showed Elizabeth that this time they'd have to run all the way down the hall to retrieve it. The hat was also placed more than halfway across the room, a near impossible feat for them to get anything in with the way that they positioned themselves. So, with that, Spike proposed that they sit upright for their last and final round.

Elizabeth looked at the the hat's distance and nodded as if to accept the challenge.

With the stack of cards held within his hand, Spike lightly bounced on the edge of the bed as he looked out towards the hat. Then, giving Elizabeth a quick side glance, he kicked her from the side and started flicking his cards out. He eventually stood on the bed to get the cards to travel the distance that he needed to.

Elizabeth did the same, standing just as vigilant and staunch as she squinted her eyes and bit her lip in concentration. She began to grin when her cards started sailing into the hat, quicker than her sire's.

Spike would attribute his handicap due to his drunkenness and his slight nearsighted vision.

With wide eyes and an even wider smile, Elizabeth squealed as her last card sank in. "Yes!" she cheered. Pushing her sire from the side, he fell to the mattress as she jumped off the bed.

Spike struggled to get back up and glared at her as she ran past him and out the hall. _You bloody cheat!_ he thought vehemently.

Finally getting his card in, he ran out, just when Elizabeth was halfway down the hall. He made a dive, hoping to stop her from reaching the brush before him by grabbing her ankles, but just ended up grabbing air and having his ribs knocked about. Her dainty feet ran past him back towards the room as he lay sprawled out on the floor. Scrambling back to his feet, he dashed after her.

Elizabeth dove onto the bed with happy laughter. Her sire came upon the sight of her cackling with the brush held clutched to her chest, " _Revenge!_ " she bellowed hysterically. She fell backwards onto the bed with a smug smile. She sat up after a moment and looked at the brush in hand, "What to do, what to do…, decisions, decisions…."

Spike glared and pointed a finger at her- she knew what she had done. He walked to the wardrobe and leaned back against it. Folding his arms over his chest, he waited for what she had planned in store for him.

Elizabeth grinned and giggled at her sire before she looked around the room. Her eyes fell on a stack of papers, "Have you written anything recently?" she turned back to him. "If so, I want to read it," she smiled as she leaned forward with interest, placing her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on the heels of her hands.

This threw him for a loop. Spike did not expect that response from her at all.

His face faulted and he glanced up at her, his eyes a little wide with startlement. His poetry was an intimate part of his musings and thoughts, and with his past as a reminder, he had learnt to keep those parts to himself. He glanced away as he contemplated what to do. He could flat out lie to her and say that he hadn't; she wouldn't know anyway. But it was funny, how his words of bravado that he had so emotionally thrust upon her, to face life with some reckless abandon and to give anyone the derogatory bird who so much as passed a judging glance, were things he seemed to have forgotten when his own past insecurities crept up on him at that moment. It was sadly ironic- pathetic even. He rolled his eyes before giving her a look and pushed himself off the wardrobe.

Going to the dresser, Spike pulled open the top drawer and retrieved the folded papers that he had stashed in the far back. He began to flip through them, looking to see which one he had first penned when they had started on their wayward mess of a journey together. Returning to her, Spike handed Elizabeth the first poem that he had specifically written about her. Spike thought it was an amusing poem, but seeing as he had written her in a negative light and as a nuisance, he was not sure how she would take it. He waited for her to respond before showing her another piece.

_Please Hear My Prayers_

_O' the bane of my existence,_  
_the thorn in my side--_  
_'twas an accident-- I swear it!  
_ _Now a cross, I must bear it._

 _Meek, fickle, reticent mouse_  
_needs to be spoon fed;_  
_whispers when she speaks.  
_ _Careful, a sudden jolt-- she squeaks!_

 _Damn my sire, damn the night,_  
_damn the street, damn the girl,_  
_damn the blood, damn my need--  
_ _I'm not to blame; I only wanted to feed!_

 _O' God, save me from her prayers!_  
_A nun who preaches, but sins worse than villains,_  
_takes to a bible with a hand in glove.  
_ _Please, just take her. With love,_

_\--William the Bloody._

As Elizabeth read it, she realised the poem was about her. It was no secret she was an unwanted member of the family- unexpected and sired completely by accident when her sire hadn't even noticed her biting him back. It was true, she has fought valiantly and stubbornly against the demon inside of her, and that did not make things easy for him at all. Nonetheless, she nodded with the slightest ghost of a smile on her lips as she laid the page next to her. "The next one?" she lifted her gaze to him as she held out her hand.

Blinking at her with a curious sense of speculation, Spike found it interesting that she did not seem to react much at all to that. He glanced at the next poem in his clutches, one that he felt some hesitation handing her as he held some tumultuous feelings towards it. And presently, the subject matter contained within it was something very real at that moment. He whipped it in front of her as the paper audibly rustled.

Spike wasn't sure if Elizabeth would understand what it meant, but if she didn't, it was for the better. He didn't want her form of pity.

_Temptress_

_'Twas like a glittering shaft of argent white,_  
_blooming charm in the sable night;_  
_she appeared in my plight of melancholia._  
_Seeing into my heart, 'effulgent', obfuscated,_  
_our destiny and fate were consummated,_  
_but blinded was I to the folly of euphoria._  
_The demon, sinister puppeteer,_  
_pulled the strings on my guileless seer;_  
_I was incognizant to the tempest_  
_That would shower brimstone in my state of bliss._  
_For love on loan, she was remiss,  
_ _My temptress._

The emotion in it was something powerful, though Elizabeth did not completely understand what it was about; the words made some sense to her, but the topic was a little unclear. It was well written all the same, she thought. Placing the poem aside on top of the last, she held her hand out for the next piece. She found that she very much enjoyed them.

Again, Elizabeth did not appear to have much opinion on this piece. Spike was actually a little relieved at that. Handing her the next one, he was sure she'd know who he was speaking about, though he doubted she'd have anything to say like with the others.

_The Demon with the Face of an Angel_

_The One with the Angel face,_  
_Hark! A demon, in human guise._  
_Beware his cunning, silvered tongue,  
_ _'Tis a stream of poison lies._

 _Run! The Scourge of Europe doth come this way!_  
_Bequeath'd death to innocence he smote._  
_With snaggletooth and luminous eyes,  
_ _he suckles at thigh or throat._

 _Blacker than the blackest plagues_  
_descending o'er the lands,_  
_For child, woman, nor Saint is spared  
_ _once in the clutches of his hands._

 _He leaves behind a trail of savagery,  
_ _O' 'tis a bloody tragedy._

This took on a different tone entirely. It was a morbid and gruesome tale about a demon so beautiful, its deception led their victims to their downfalls. Elizabeth's brows knit together as she read, as if she were watching this monster move right in front of her. It reminded her of the imagery in Frankenstein and that made her nod with an impressed smile.

That was probably the most responsive reaction he had gotten from her yet. Spike was aware of her fascination with macabre elements, so maybe this resonated with her to some degree. He wondered, however, if she knew who it was he spoke of. He carried on and gave her the most recent and final piece. This one, again, expressed his loathing for his sire.

_An Unfulfilled Desire_

_His scent, a stench I cannot muster._  
_'Tis a portrait of a hanged man in my head._  
_I'd thrust my thumbs in to gouge his eyes,_  
_choke the breath to silence his laughter._  
_O' Satan, hear my cries!_  
_Steal him away! Let him die!_  
_"Let him live," a voice spake,_  
_"An evil greater than evil, even I dread."  
_ _Not even hell greets him-- o' curses to be undead._

Elizabeth knew it was about her sire's hatred for Angelus. Aside from some small teasing and ridicule that Angelus imparted on him, she did not understand where her sire's hatred for him had stemmed from.

She found the poem good, bringing in the voice of the devil to add imagery and context, but with a little rise of her brows, she could not believe that Angelus was so horrible that Satan himself feared him.

When she had finished reading, Elizabeth picked up the other stack of poems and tucked them beneath the last one. "There… appears to be another page here," she said, feeling something shift underneath the last poem she had read.

Spike canted his head curiously as he watched her begin to peel the two pages apart.

Now having the sheet free in her hand, Elizabeth settled it in front of her as she began to read.

Spike looked back to the pages in his clutches as he wondered what was amiss. Then it dawned on him.

_The Wanton Folly of Me Mum_

_'Twas a woman with gentle touch,_  
_Softer still her voice,_  
_A mother to a son whom she  
_ _showered with affections._

Elizabeth had only managed to read the first stanza before her sire snatched the papers out of her hands. She snapped her head up to look at him, her eyes wide with alarm.

Spike squinted his eyes at her as he tried to scrutinise how much she had gleaned from it. It was a poem he had written months before, something that was far too personal for him to share with anyone. He realised the mistake he had made for keeping that poem with him; he didn't need it in written form anymore, he had memorised it by rote. In fact, he had done so with all of his poems; he could have saved himself the trouble and just burned them all after he had penned them to save himself from future embarrassments like this.

Elizabeth fidgeted uncomfortably under her sire's silent and penetrating stare. "I-I'm sorry," she apologised, not entirely sure what it was she was apologising for.

Spike broke his gaze with a small shake of his head. It was absurd for him to think he could judge how much she had read by just staring at her. And if he asked, he wasn't sure whether her reply would be truthful as she could just as easily lie, given she probably wanted to make him feel better. He folded his pages up and shoved them back into the back of the dresser. Not wanting to overthink things, he decided to just brush it off, not wanting to make it seem more of an issue.

Elizabeth silently watched her sire and figured that poem was a tender subject, even for someone like him. She thought it was best if she didn't press him with any questions. "You have lovely work, here," she said with a kind smile, trying her best to divert his sudden bad mood into something positive.

Again, her compliment took him by surprise. Spike merely looked at her, not entirely sure if this was just a form of formalities, and considering she wasn't exactly a seasoned poet herself, not one he could trust her word for. Spike slumped down on the edge of the bed and shrugged at her in response. Maybe her sense of poetry was just as bad as his, which made her appreciate it all the same.

"What is that look for?" she smiled as she canted her head. "It is not Shakespeare, but it is good all the same," she said in all honesty.

Spike merely watched her as she spoke to him. She was odd. Though she was paying him a compliment, however sincere it might have been, it did not compel him to be gracious or appreciative. He was just… indifferent.

Elizabeth stood, "I shall be retiring for the night," she walked to the hanging tapestry as Spike's eyes followed her. With a departing glance over her shoulder, she smiled, "I really did have a wonderful time. Good night." She pulled the tapestry back and disappeared from view as she slipped through the open door and back into her room, leaving Spike to his solitude once again.

He glanced around the state of his own room- a disarray of cards and books; bread crumbs on his sheets; a plate with a half eaten sandwich nestled next to the picked at loaf of bread; another empty bottle laying on the floor to add to the collection of glasses; and the dead woman that had remained at the other end of the bed, having been left there throughout the duration of their game. He gave the body a nudge with his foot, allowing it to roll off the edge and flop down loudly onto the floor. Then, gathering the bread onto the plate, he set it aside on the dresser.

Spike scratched the area on his shirt above his wound as he stared at the state of his messy room. Satisfied that he had at least cleared his bed for sleep, he crawled into the sheets and rolled onto his side to glance at the empty space next to him before turning over and shutting his eyes.

┼†‡

He awoke some time later to see Drusilla lying next to him. "You're here…," he managed to whisper, a wistful smile on his lips.

Drusilla opened her eyes and looked back at him, "Where else would I be?" she let her fingertips trace along his cheek.

Spike pulled her close into him, sinking his face into the crook of her neck and breathed her in. Wherever she had been before, whomever she had been with before, their scents no one longer clung to her. She must have scrubbed herself clean before coming back into bed, a decent enough courtesy of her considering- but he didn't care anymore. Drusilla was back in his arms and that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _S'il vous_ _plaît, Mademoiselle, f_ _ini de faire l'andouille -_ Please, Miss, stop acting the fool/so ridiculous [This is actually a French idiom, so the literal translation goes something like: 'Please, Miss, stop making andouille sausages.' An 'andouille' is a smoked sausage made of pork, but to the French, it is also what you call a ridiculous person. :D]  
>  _Pan-bagnat -_ a specialty sandwich of the Provence region of Nice, France [literal translation means 'bathed' or 'wet bread'. It is composed of _pain de campagne,_ a rounded whole wheat bread, and _Salade Niçoise_ , a salad of tomatoes, olives, hard boiled eggs, anchovies and/or tuna, olive oil, and garlic. Preparation takes up to a day where it is wrapped tightly and a heavy weight is placed on top of it.]


	32. Day 36: After great pain, a formal feeling comes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **MA warning in effect. Some of the following scenes are graphic and may be triggering. Discretion is advised.**

Spike opened his eyes to see Drusilla absent. It was late afternoon, possibly even early evening. He sat up in bed and quickly scanned the room before his eyes settled down to the vanity, feeling relieved to see her seated there.

"Are these for me?" she smiled, turning around in her chair with the Mimosa flowers clutched within her hands.

He had forgotten about those. "Of course they are, love," Spike managed to whisper, glad that he could now at least express himself without the aid of the writing board. He crawled out of bed towards her, "Wanted to surprise you when you got back," he kissed her on the forehead. Of course that wasn't true; he had just picked them on account of the dare assigned by Elizabeth- but Drusilla didn't need to know that.

"Oh, they're beautiful, William," she breathed, lightly picking at the little balls of yellow before bringing them to her nose to inhale. She set them down on the vanity as she glanced around the room, "Did you have fun without me?" she looked up at him. "Seems things got exciting."

"It was tolerable," Spike replied, leaning in closer, "would have been infinitely better with you there, love." He scratched at his shirt again, "I think it's time we got this removed."

Drusilla gave a small giggle as she picked up a pair of shears and turned back around to face him. Spike unbuttoned the full length of his shirt to reveal his bandages; the area where his blood had seeped through had now turned to a dark brown. Slipping the cold metal beneath the linen, Drusilla began to snip upwards till she had cut it away clean. She set the shears down and carefully peeled the bandages and gauze away from his skin. His wound was now completely healed, save for a very small and thin scar that was no longer than an inch in length.

"You've healed nicely," Drusilla grazed her fingernails over that area. Then glancing up at him, she smiled at him coyly as she bent down and kissed him there.

Spike might have looked fine from the outside, but pulling air into his lung was still labourious and required some effort. He preempted Drusilla's advances by taking hold of her hand and drew it up to his mouth; he kissed it, "Give me another day, love. Then I'll be good as new."

Drusilla stood and slipped her hand out from his grasp. Spike did nothing but stare back at her with surprise as she walked away from him, almost a little coldly. "You should get washed up, William. You haven't had a decent bath since I pulled you from that angry mob."

He raised his brows as he watched her walk out of the room.

┼†‡

A happy giggle rolled out from Elizabeth's throat. She bit at her lip and covered her mouth as she walked through the quiet halls, her giddiness tempered with modesty in her regard for her upbringing. She was lost in her own thoughts- of a dream to be exact- of an event that had come to pass. It was of her and Angelus dancing in the privacy of the library.

The second time she had dreamt of this was no different; it held as much clarity and vibrancy as it did in real life, if not more. But, there was a slight variation to the dream. In this one, she felt something different.

When he drew himself close for their kiss, in addition to the flush of her heated face, she could hear and feel the throbbing of a heartbeat.

_Her_ heartbeat.

He had pulled away to stare down at her, and she returned his gaze with starry eyes; the roar of her heartbeat only increased and thundered in her eardrums like a caged beast beneath her ribcage. She could see him mouth the words, mentioning the late hour, but all she could hear was the roar of her dead heart.

_No, not yet!_ she thought when he had settled her back to the floor. As he began to turn from her, she held fast to his arm. _I don't want this night to end!_

Angelus had turned around to face her, "What is it, Elizabeth?"

She held fast and just looked back up at him, her voice caught in her throat as she heard his words muffled over the throbbing of her heartbeats. She couldn't move nor speak; fear corrupted her from doing anything else but stare back with a look of desperation.

Angelus smiled and replaced his hand at the small of her back, as though he were readying himself for another dance; he pressed her closer. Bringing his other hand to the side of her face, he gently cupped her cheek, causing her to yield to his touch and shiver. "What do you want me to do…?" his thumb caressed downward over her pale skin till it grazed her bottom lip.

Elizabeth had woken with a gasp. She could still feel the pressure of his hand holding her in place, and the tingle where his fingers had traced her face and lip. She placed her hand to her chest to see if the drumming of her heart had been real, if the dead muscle had miraculously returned to some mortal awakening, only to feel nothing but the soft fabric shift beneath the touch of her own hand.

Other than not wanting their time together to end that night, what did she want?

Elizabeth's brows furrowed lightly in confusion as she pondered this, finding her eyes drift aimlessly along the wooden grain of the grand hallway. With a shake of her head, she straightened her posture and took a deep breath, letting her shoulders rise and fall as she dismissed that notion with the air that left her lungs.

It was his company that she yearned for. His thoughts and conversations, his guidance and mentorship.

Elizabeth began to smile again as she began to hum the tune they had danced to. She had spent a great deal catching up on some reading in the library already, biding her time when she believed Angelus would be free. Should he be, if he didn't have other matters to attend to.

┼†‡

Angelus walked in tow with Maurizio out of his office, "Pierre still appears to be unsure despite me showing him how proficient I am with these types of matters."

"Yes, he's always been a little more wary when relinquishing any form of power; always one to hold the reins a little too tightly. He wouldn't even hire a manager for his store for the longest time and would have to commute to several locations within a day just to oversee each one," Maurizio paused and chuckled as he faced his friend. "Not to worry, though. As I can tell, you've already planted a seed within him. He's just taking some time to let things settle."

"Hmm, yes, time will only tell," Angelus commented, continuing on. "I'm surprised you're still here. I believed you'd have left for this morning."

"Ah, well," Maurizio laughed, his laughter echoing off the walls as they began to descend the stairs, "change of plans. I've… decided to delay my departure. Till after the new year."

┼†‡

Elizabeth found herself boldly heading towards Angelus' bedroom when she heard the faint sound of two men in conversation. One voice in particular caused her to turn on her spot; her face lit up as she recognised her mentor's voice. She smiled as she quickened her pace towards the stairwell, only to slow when she caught wind of their words. She stood a small distance away as the men came into view.

"Oh?" Angelus raised a brow at his friend; he paused as he observed him in silence. "You appear to be in much better spirits, Maurizio. Did something happen?"

Maurizio glanced to Angelus, his smile unwavering, "Well, I-"

Angelus suddenly turned and glanced over his shoulder before Maurizio could descend for the next floor, "Care to join us, Elizabeth?"

Her eyes widened in shock like a child being caught stealing sweets. "P-pardon the intrusion. I happened to be wandering the halls when I came upon your conversation. I… I do apologise," she managed to muster a smile, but it was filled with guilt.

Angelus smiled at her, "There is nothing to be concerned about. Maurizio and I are on our way downstairs. We'd love to escort you if that's where you're heading."

Maurizio gave a nod and smiled at her.

"I… I would appreciate no better company," she looked to both of the men before walking forward and taking Angelus' arm.

Angelus carried on, "You were saying, Maurizio? I apologise for so rudely interrupting you."

"Ah, no, no," he waved it off with a lighthearted laugh, "I was about to say that… considering the holidays and festivities, it would be improper for me as a host to just suddenly take off and leave," he glanced to Elizabeth and gave her a warm smile. "Details of my business aren't that pressing as of late, anyhow. I do not want to turn into another Pierre," he laughed, looking back at Angelus.

"Of course. Time for the self is just as important," Angelus nodded. "I'm glad to see more of you around, friend. Maybe you'll help to entice Pierre to settle his mind quicker?" he chuckled.

"Time will tell," Maurizio returned Angelus' words and smiled.

Elizabeth had been quietly listening to their exchange with a bowed head. With Angelus by her side, it was difficult to maintain a proper demeanour without smiling too brightly. She bit at her lip and kept her eyes averted downward, trying to keep herself distracted whilst maintaining some semblance of etiquette and attention. Her hands wound around Angelus' arm a little tighter as her thoughts unintentionally drifted back to her dreams. She blushed as her hand marginally slid downward across his forearm.

Angelus shifted his gaze towards her briefly, his dark eyes casting over her form curiously.

When they reached the main level, he paused to turn to her, "We've some more things to attend to, dear. Though Maurizio claims he's put things aside for travelling, it doesn't extend to his businesses at home."

Elizabeth looked to him with a sinking heart.

"I'm sure I won't keep him for too long, Elizabeth," Maurizio replied, giving a small laugh.

She smiled politely at her host and nodded, "Then I shall bid you a good evening, Maurizio." She turned to glance at Angelus, "Good evening, Angelus," her smile wistful.

She watched Angelus depart with Maurizio, leaving her to stand idly in the vestibule.

┼†‡

As the night wore on, it was apparent that Maurizio had lied about returning Angelus promptly, and had instead kept him away till very late into the night.

Drusilla had even returned before them with Spike's treats- a couple of adolescent street urchins- wide-eyed, waif-like, hungry, and scared. She had pulled them through the yard and up the stairs, promising them food and drink to fill their empty bellies. And she hadn't lied.

As she fed the children, Spike watched from the bed with mild amusement, finding the dark humour that they were unknowingly consuming their last meal, and that he'd soon be filling his empty belly with their blood.

When one of the girl's had finished eating, Drusilla took her by the hand and led her forward towards him- the other was too preoccupied with eating to notice what was going on. The girl carefully glanced to her saviour, curious as to what was about to happen. She trusted her as she guided her forward, but was wary of the man that had been watching them the whole while.

"Nothing but skin and bones," Spike rasped, glancing up to Drusilla. "Seems you've picked something more suited to your taste, don't you think, pet?"

"Beggars can't be choosers, love," Drusilla replied, giving the girl a pat on the shoulder as she stood her in front of Spike.

Spike gave a small sigh and beckoned the girl to come closer with a finger.

The girl's eyes grew a little wider. She glanced nervously back to her saviour before being reassured with a smile and a nod and continued forward.

Spike smiled and took hold of her hand, then yanked her forward before covering her mouth as his visage transformed with the flicker of the candlelight. Drawing her into a tight embrace, he clamped his fangs down onto her neck.

The other girl turned and peered over her shoulder to see her friend being hugged by the strange man. She turned back around in her chair and resumed eating.

"Starved for love, they are," Drusilla commented, smiling as she watched Spike eat.

Spike leaned back and breathed, his eyes yellow as he let the girl flop forward in his arms, "Maybe, but still sweet as ever," he smirked. He released his hold on her and let her fall to the floor.

At that sound, the other girl turned once more, this time seeing her friend having vanished from sight. She licked her fingers and squinted her eyes as she tried to peer through the dim room, seeing only the man sitting on the bed and the woman standing in front of him.

"Come on, deary, would you like to see? Don't be shy," Drusilla cooed, beckoning her to come forward with open arms.

The girl hesitantly stood with a piece of bread in her grasp as she chewed the food in her mouth. As she crept forward, she nervously glanced between the kind woman who had taken her in, and the man whose face was shadowed in the darkness.

When she had reached the foot of the bed, she stopped and glanced down, noticing the heap of the body lying on the floor. Her shoulders began to heave up and down as she drew in ragged breaths; the bread in her hand fell to the floor. She slowly raised her head to see the demon man looming in front of her, face hideous and jagged teeth bared in a bloody grin.

This girl was unlike the other; she wouldn't let herself so easily succumb to the likes of a demon. She ran over the clutter of books and papers on the floor and tossed them back at him before throwing the chair over in his path to slow his menacing prowl.

Spike was surprised at this outcome, "We've got ourselves a fighter!" he laughed in surprise before getting decked in the head with a leather bound. He let out a roar of annoyance, "That bloody hurt! And to think we took the trouble of feeding you a warm meal! This is the thanks I get?" he continued to stalk her as she backed up towards the vanity.

She braced her arms back as her hand fell across the plate of food, causing the silverware to clatter. When her fingers felt the blade of the knife, she fumbled as she grasped at the handle, clenching it into her fist as she held it up in front of her body. She continued to shuffle backwards till she found herself cornered in the room.

Spike started to giggle, "I like this one," he glanced over at Drusilla. "I take it back, love, this one's infinitely more entertaining." Looking back to the girl, he slowly moved closer till the heels of her feet touched the back of the wall behind her.

┼†‡

Patience and optimism were things Elizabeth prided herself with, but even she had to admit that with the growing night, Angelus would not be returning any time soon. She gathered the small stack of books by her side and stood from the garden bench. She had thought reading under the clear sky and moonlight would be a nice a change of scenery, and with the aid of the hypnotic and soothing cadence of the crashing waves, it had. Her mind was temporarily filled with the stories that she now held in her arms, distracting her till the covers were closed shut. Then she was reminded of her growing anxiety as she wondered where her mentor was and when he would return.

With a final glance over her shoulder, Elizabeth looked towards the horizon. She let out a soft sigh and turned back around as she continued towards the manor.

She returned the books to their proper places to the library shelves with care.

Even as she walked the halls, Elizabeth held on the slightest ounce of hope that she might happen upon Angelus returning, but it was with dismay that she turned upstairs and began to head towards her bedroom to retire for the night. She stopped in her path to hear some commotion coming from her sire's quarters. With a soft sigh, she shook her head and walked past it.

┼†‡

The girl lashed out with the knife each time Spike so much as flinched at her.

He laughed at her frantic antics, seeing as she had nowhere to run.

"Kitten's cornered a mouse, meow," Drusilla smiled. She walked forward till she stood just behind him, "I smell her fear," she said into his ear, "such a lovely perfume." Pausing, she looked to the girl, then giggled, "Be quick before she turns herself into a fountain, love. You'll make no wishes there."

Spike glanced to Drusilla to see her cover her mouth as she tried to contain her fits of laughter. Following her gaze, he turned back to see that the girl had taken up extreme measures to forego the death at his hands and end her own life. She slashed at her wrists and blood began to pool outward. Then, in a last attempt to end things sooner, she sliced across her neck.

"Bloody… ugh!" Spike growled as he moved forward, but not fast enough to stop the girl from keeping his meal contained; instead, blood had spilt out all over his clothes and face in rhythmic bursts. "Dru- Drusilla! You should have warned me sooner!" Spike rasped from over his shoulder, keeping the girl upright as she began to lose consciousness. He turned back around as he tried to clamp his mouth over the gash on her neck, salvaging whatever blood he could, but only ended up slipping on the slick and sticky red that had pooled underneath his feet.

The female vampire couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably at her lover.

┼†‡

Elizabeth had ignored the laughter coming from the wall next to her. She preoccupied herself by getting herself cleaned up and readying herself for bed. Now in her nightgown, she sat at her vanity dresser as she brushed her hair.

┼†‡

Drusilla was still doubled over in laughter as she clutched at her stomach, even having to wipe at the tears slipping at the corners of her eyes.

The girl finally lay still in Spike's arms as he hunched over her unmoving form on the floor. He peeled himself off of her, having now both of their bodies coated completely in sticky blood. Letting her body roll off from his lap, he looked at the mess she had made of them, "Jesus bloody Christ!" he hissed. "Half of my meal's gone wasted on the floor!" he frowned, changing back into his human form. He scratched at his head, only adding more blood into the tangles of his curls, "Don't think we should leave this here, should we? I'll need some towels," he sighed.

As if on cue, Drusilla turned her head towards the hung tapestry, sensing that Elizabeth had returned to her bedroom. "You must clean your own messes, William," she smiled at him, wagging a finger like she had caught a naughty little boy doing something he shouldn't have been doing.

Spike looked to her incredulously, his mouth agape as he watched her scurry away towards the hidden door. "Dru...silla!" he hissed.

"Find me when you've finished, William," she giggled.

┼†‡

Pulling through onto the other side, Drusilla continued to giggle as she softly shut the door behind her. She pushed past the other tapestry and spotted Elizabeth seated in her armchair as she was braiding her hair. "Granddaughter," she sang.

Elizabeth paused, turning to see her grandsire still in dress bounding over towards her.

Drusilla planted a kiss atop of her head before smoothing her hair, "Allow me to finish," she said, taking the tail end of her hair from her hands.

Elizabeth smiled and nodded at her.

Once Drusilla had finished with the pleats, she affixed a bow. She knelt down by Elizabeth's side as she hugged her shoulders from behind, "Would you like grandmother to tell you a bedtime story tonight?" she blinked up at her with her large eyes and smiled.

Elizabeth nodded again, this time a little more emphatically; her smile was now filled with affection and a warmth as she looked towards her adopted grandparent.

"Come," Drusilla giggled softly, taking her by the hand and pulling her towards the bed. After Drusilla had scrambled up over the covers and settled down against the pillows, she smiled at Elizabeth and patted the area next to her.

Elizabeth climbed in and shifted the blanket up over her lap.

Snuggling in close to Elizabeth, Drusilla pulled her to her side as she planted another kiss on her forehead. She cradled her arm around her as Elizabeth nestled her head against her shoulder, "How shall I begin? It isn't a fairy tale, no, so there is no need to say 'once upon a time'," Drusilla mused out loud. "Ah, I know," she smiled. "There once was a family, gay as can be. There was a mummy and a daddy, and they were blessed with three girls. But throughout all of their love and devotion to God, they had spawned a devil child," she giggled. "They tried to hide 'er in dresses, discipline 'er in God's way, sent 'er to church to drive the devil out of her," she cupped a hand to the side of her mouth as her voice dipped to a whisper, "but it did nothing to stop him from whispering wicked spells in 'er 'ead. Spp, spp, spp," she continued. She lowered her hand, "No, it only fanned the flames," she stared ahead vacantly, her voice now returned to normal.

Elizabeth looked up at her, curious as to where this tale was leading.

"God had plans for this child, had 'em all laid out, but she fought hard, boxed 'er ears, bit 'er tongue, fought against the very nature of what she was meant to be. It took her some time to understand God's message, got a little guidance from the pastor, but she was soon led upon the path she was to rightfully take. The Devil 'imself sent little waking dreams of her life to be, but that only scared her stiff, made 'er cling tighter to her family," Drusilla pursed her lips. "After a long spell, she fell back into old habits, forgetting the messages she was supposed to heed.

"Mummy was making pudding and had set it out to cool, but Leontine couldn't help but stick her li'l fingers in for a taste," she giggled.

"'You want to lose your finguh, Leon?'" Drusilla wagged her own finger in the air at the invisible girl. "'You'll remove it if you want to keep all ten of 'em.' Mummy always warned them to be patient, but Leon liked sweets far too much. She was a naughty one, even got Theodora to join in at times. Right when mummy turned away, they both had 'em fingers stuck in," Drusilla covered her mouth as she giggled girlishly.

Elizabeth smiled and let out a soft and amused chuckle. Fighting a yawn, she could feel her fatigue threatening to end her night short before she could hear the conclusion to the story.

Drusilla suddenly grew quiet; her eyes widened as she stared vacantly in front of her, "There came a knock at the door," she whispered. "Shh…," she placed a finger in front of her lips. "Ted ran to answer it, not wanting to get scolded by mummy like Leon did. Her fingers were still covered in crumbs and custard, all a sticky mess. And then they came in," Drusilla smiled as she pressed the side of her head to Elizabeth's, "and she knew they were there to set fings straight," she sighed, almost dreamily.

Elizabeth was entranced by the story, as if she could see it happening in front of her. "Who was it, grandmother?" she asked with childish curiosity; her lids drooped and she blinked slowly with sleep.

Drusilla peered down at Elizabeth and smiled, "Her real daddy and grandmuhvuh," she played with Elizabeth's braid. "She was scared stiff, hadn't the will to move.

"Mummy warned Leon she'd lose her fingers again- and then she did!" Drusilla giggled, quick to cover her mouth. "Li'l fingers, li'l hands…," her giggles took on the form of open laughter, "all covered in red!" she gasped as tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

Elizabeth sat up in bed and watched Drusilla shake with laughter; her expression was one of bafflement and confusion at her elder's strange display. "Grandmother…?" she asked tentatively.

"That's not pomegranate juice!" Drusilla cackled, unable to suppress her laughter and tears. "Mummy, daddy, Leon, Ted, Uncle Clare- the whooole lot!"

"What… what happened to them…?" Elizabeth whispered.

┼†‡

Spike had managed to clean the area well enough by sopping up the blood with a rug, then used it to roll up the mess of the girl. He hated being domestic, but he supposed it'd save him the trouble of having to explain to any maids what a dead girl was doing in his room and then have them join her.

He had a quick bath- seeing that he had already taken one earlier that day- but made sure to wring all the red out of his hair.

By the time he was done, and his hair was somewhat sufficiently dry, he trudged to the adjoining doorway to Elizabeth's room. Before his hand had even touched the doorknob, he could feel that something was wrong. He pulled through to see Drusilla in hysterics.

"Li'l hands, li'l fingers!" she laughed, gasping for air, her face wet with tears.

Elizabeth turned to see her sire quickly walking over towards them.

With a look of concern, he pulled Drusilla up towards his chest and held her against him protectively, "What did you do!" his voice hoarse and heated as he glared at Elizabeth. "You're upsetting her!"

Even though he was barely above a whisper, Elizabeth couldn't help but flinch at the venom that he managed to exude, "Sh-she was telling me a bedtime story," she tried to explain.

"A-all red... their fingers… covered in it…," Drusilla gasped in Spike's chest, her voice now thick with anguish.

Spike pulled Drusilla from the bed as she leaned into him. "It's all right, love," he said gently, cupping her face upwards as he kissed her on her forehead, "I'm here." Elizabeth watched them in silence.

"C-covered in custard…," Drusilla sobbed, "their li'l fingers and hands…," she choked on another sob before another unnerving cackle of laughter erupted out.

"Shh… it's all right now, my sweet," Spike whispered, holding her close to him; he pressed her head to his shoulder and rubbed a soothing hand over her back.

Her sobs subsided and her breathing slowed.

Spike turned to glare at Elizabeth one last time before guiding Drusilla back towards their room.

"Leon and Ted hadn't even licked their fingers clean yet," Drusilla said in a soft and childish tone as she rested the side of her head against Spike's chest.

"No more words, love," he whispered, his arm protectively secured around her shoulder. He kicked the door closed behind them, causing it to slam shut. He didn't care if it had been too loud; he wanted Elizabeth to know that what she had done had angered him.

As he settled Drusilla in bed and pulled the covers over her still shivering body, Spike decided that she could no longer sneak out for her nightly 'bedtime story' visits to Elizabeth's room- not when the girl had managed to evoke some mental anguish from his lover's past.

He watched her lie there for a moment, then pulled her head to his chest. He continued to stroke her back till she calmed down and fell asleep.

 


	33. Day 37: The Starlight Night

It was dark and quiet in the corner of the library loft, a preferable environment for her reading, but Elizabeth could barely find solace in the words of her books. Drusilla had left her with the impression that something had gone terribly amiss, even for the likes of her, and her sire had only confirmed that his lover's disturbed behaviour was likely provoked by Elizabeth's own doing. Troubled by this, she had barely slept that night, wondering what she could have possibly done to cause her grandsire such distress.

It was late afternoon, the sky already dark, when Elizabeth had pulled herself from bed and into the library. Escapism into the worlds of her books was usually a means of comfort to her, but as her eyes glossed over the passages, Elizabeth found herself distracted and rereading the same paragraph for the past half hour. She let the book rest within her hands as her eyes drifted away from it, worry and speculation settling into her mind for her sister figure.

┼†‡

Angelus went in search for his progeny, finally having the time to mind and guide her into a proper killer of the night. He slipped into the library and immediately headed to her most frequented spots. Finding the window seat empty, he turned to the loft. A small smirk shifted up the corner of his mouth when he spotted her seated in the corner of her newfound reading area, surrounded in the soft glow of candlelight. "Lizzy," he called out as he approached.

Her head remained turned away.

"Lizzy," he repeated. As he neared, it was clear that she was distraught. He raised a slight brow and let out a soft sigh before bending low, "My dear Lizzy, what is it?" he said gently.

Elizabeth immediately jerked her head around to face him, eyes wide with alarm, "Oh, Angelus!" she breathed.

"I called out to you twice, but it didn't appear that you heard me," he replied, taking a seat across from her on the settee.

She let the open book rest in her lap as she smoothed her palm over the page, "I… yes," she nodded, finally admitting to it with a frown. She bowed her head slightly as she lowered her eyes to her lap.

Angelus watched her, expecting her to continue, but was only met with silence. He rolled his eyes, "What seems to be troubling you, dear?" his voice was filled with concern; he leaned in closer towards her.

Elizabeth tentatively raised her eyes to him, "L-last night…," she began, pausing to glance down to collect her thoughts.

Angelus' eyes widened in realisation; he moved in closer to take hold of her hand within his, "It was not my intention to spend all my time away. By the time Maurizio and I had finished with our engagements-"

Elizabeth shook her head, "No, that is all right, Angelus," she looked at him and managed a small smile, "I understand; matters of business are important," she gave a curt and knowing nod; she was far too familiar with these situations than she wished to, being raised by a man like her father.

A glint of curiosity flashed in his eyes, "If I am not the cause of your disposition, what could possibly be?"

"It… it concerns Drusilla," Elizabeth finally confessed, her brows furrowing once more.

"Oh?" Angelus could not help but be surprised.

"I… I know well the frailty of her mind- but I love her dearly all the same," Elizabeth looked up at him earnestly. "She has become much like an elder sister to me, and I would have it no other way. And it is because of this, it pains me more to think that I could have possibly caused her any harm," Elizabeth's fingers curled over the edge of the book as she grasped at it.

"'Harm'? She may look more easily susceptible, but she carries herself well enough. What would make you believe such a thing?" he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pressed her towards him.

Elizabeth yielded and rested her head against the crook of his shoulder, "She came to my room last night- it has become habit that I tell her bedtime stories- but she wanted to share one this time. As she was telling her tale… I'd never seen her in such a state of vexation before," Elizabeth frowned.

Angelus' curiosity turned to interest.

"She was hysterical- her laughter turning into crying. Has she ever shared it with you?" she glanced upwards towards him. "It was a story about a family with three girls, one who was born a devil child. She was raised in the Christian faith, but fought against her nature."

Angelus smiled, "Ah, that one. I'm very familiar with it. What else did she tell you?" he pressed, glancing down at her.

Elizabeth shifted her gaze to her hands, "Two visitors came to their home. The two sisters…. Drusilla didn't say, but I believe they killed them. The whole family, in fact," Elizabeth recalled how Drusilla had listed each member; she couldn't help but shiver at that. "That was the devil child's real family. I believe that was Satan himself at the door," she said softly. She shifted her head to look up at Angelus as he let out a loud and amused chuckle.

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to make that comparison," he said, staring across the room.

She frowned, "It would make sense, having the devil reclaim his child, does it not?"

Angelus raised his brows in thought before letting them drop and nodding, "Yes, it surely does."

"Did Drusilla react in the same way when she shared this with you?" Elizabeth continued to frown.

"Dear I say, she was much worse. She was babbling for days on end; there was no way of consoling her."

"Poor soul."

Angelus paused, "Yes, at the time. But not anymore." He glanced down at her, "As you can see, there is no need for worry," he patted her on the shoulder.

Elizabeth furrowed her brows, "Her reaction to it all was so pained, despite it being only a story."

"She took it too personally," Angelus shrugged a shoulder impassively. "By now, she'd be just as she was before: talking to dolls and drinking the blood of children," he peered down at her with a smile. "Trust me when I say, it'll be but a distant memory to her. That is, if you trust me at all."

"But I do!" Elizabeth was quick to react as she pushed herself off his chest and stared up at him. She lowered her head slightly, feeling embarrassed at her sudden outburst, "I trust you," she said timidly.

Angelus' smile broadened, "Come now, how about you and I head on out? We'll do whatever you wish to do or see. It would help to ease your mind on such matters."

"I... would love that," she smiled, "very much."

With a small pat on her hand, Angelus rose from his seat and led her out to the vestibule.

┼†‡

"Keepin' your eyes out, love?" Spike called out from the top of the stairwell.

"'Course, William. There isn't a soul watching," Drusilla replied whimsically.

Angelus and Elizabeth turned from the door to see her flitting down the stairs.

"An evening stroll amongst the stars?" Drusilla smiled. Elizabeth smiled in return, glad to see her in happier spirits.

Spike followed after, hefting the body of the girl in the rolled up rug over his shoulder, "You said you were watching, Dru!" he huffed as he slowly trudged down the stairs.

Drusilla turned to glance at him, "Daddy and granddaughter don't count," she replied in her defense.

Spike sighed and let the body drop to the floor at his feet, "Still, best to be more careful, ducky," he gave her a small peck on the cheek before glancing at the two other members of his family, his expression turning a little sour when his eyes fell on his progeny.

As Elizabeth's gaze met his, her smile dissipated into a look of an apology. She quickly averted her eyes.

"They've discovered the aftermath of your little escapade from that night," Angelus commented, looking to Spike, "the police have been investigating."

Elizabeth remained quiet as she listened. The small bout of anxiety that Angelus had managed to dispel began to well in the pit of her stomach again.

"Oh, is that so?" Spike replied nonchalantly, his sarcasm and sass returning with his health.

"Aye, better be more careful the two of you, or you'll be having more than a blade stuck between your ribs the next time."

"Three," Spike corrected him, nodding at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth's back straightened and she looked to her sire.

"Or have you forgotten? Well," he gave a little sigh, "suppose it's hard to consider her as 'one' when she's barely lettin' out a peep. Tend to forget she's there at all," he gave an indifferent shrug.

Whatever form of unease that had taken abloom in her had now been completely quashed by her sire's directed and callous remark. Elizabeth could feel her face harden and a wave of heat behind her eyes as she glared at him. She steadied herself as she clenched her fists by her sides.

"Just get rid of the bodies, William. Somewhere far away and discrete, hmm?"

"No, we were going to plant them with the perennials. What is it you think we're doing?"

"Can we William? Will they bloom into flowers?" Drusilla looked to him hopefully.

"No, love, it doesn't work like that," Spike said, turning to her.

"And the other bodies Dru left in the garden. You'll have to take those with you, too."

Spike looked to Drusilla, "You already tried it, love?"

"I only wanted to make the garden prettier," she pouted.

Spike let out a sigh as he scratched at his forehead, "All right. Fine. We're pulling a shipment load here. Dru, you're my eyes, got it?" Spike paused as he looked to Angelus and Elizabeth, "'Course, if you'd want to help."

"No, you appear to have everything under control, William. Now that you're all better, it shouldn't be an issue for you to handle things for yourself, should it?"

Spike squinted his eyes at him before turning around and heading back upstairs.

As soon as he was out of sight, Elizabeth relaxed her shoulders and hands. She turned her attention to her more loving family members.

Drusilla grinned at them as she announced excitedly, "We're going to have a bonfire, want to come?"

Angelus glanced to Elizabeth, "Not exactly the type of roasting chestnuts I'd expect. What do you say, Elizabeth?"

"May we go on our walk and meet them later in the evening?" she asked shyly.

"Of course, anything you'd like," Angelus replied.

With a loving smile, she turned to Drusilla, "Would that be all right, grandmother?"

Drusilla clutched Elizabeth's hands, "Will you? We've had fun the last time, haven't we?" she asked, peering at her with large eyes.

┼†‡

Spike began to descend the stairs, this time hefting the first woman from their 'game night', and the other homeless girl, one over each of his shoulders. He shifted their weights in his hold as he glanced down at his waiting peers.

Drusilla paused as she observed Elizabeth, then a slow smile beamed across her face as she took a step towards her, "Would you like a sister to keep you company?" she said a little more quietly.

Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise.

Spike dropped the bodies at the foot of the stairs and trudged forward towards them. Grabbing hold of Drusilla's wrist, he pulled her away from Elizabeth, "Stop that, Dru!"

"Why are you yelling at me?" she whimpered. "I only asked if she'd like more company. It's lonely being an only child, William. Isn't it, Elizabeth?" Drusilla turned around to glance at her before looking back at Spike. "Won't you make her a little sister, sweet William?" Drusilla cupped his face into her hands as she peered up at him.

Spike took hold of her hands and lowered them to his chest, "I'd do anything for you, love, but I can't. This isn't what you want, can't you see?" he frowned as he tried to reason with her.

Angelus remained quiet and merely watched them. "I think it best we take our leave now," he quietly suggested to Elizabeth.

She nodded.

Taking Elizabeth by the hand, Angelus led her out as the sound of Drusilla's and Spike's argument faded with the door closing behind them.

┼†‡

"I don't want to make her unhappy," Elizabeth said softly as she began to walk away from the facade, "I owe her so much," she glanced back at the manor.

"That isn't really something you can help; Drusilla has her own agenda," Angelus sighed softly. "Does the prospect of having 'a sister'- as Dru put it- appeal to you?" he walked on, heading down towards the promenade along the beach.

"In all honesty, no. Things have already proven difficult."

Angelus gave a small nod, "It would be too much to handle, especially if the burden to care for her were under the likes of those two," he looked ahead. The beach was deserted as though it had been reserved just for them.

"I could not imagine what it would be like for another girl." Elizabeth shook her head, "No, I have my books... and you. Especially you," she peered at him lovingly.

"Well, when the time comes, and you grow tired of me, you may want to consider siring a companion of your own," he teased.

Elizabeth smiled, "I don't think I would ever see such a day."

Angelus chuckled as he intertwined his fingers with hers, "That's good. Very good."

With her head slightly bowed, Elizabeth averted her gaze to the ground, "It is very nice spending time with you."

"As it is with you," he smiled at her as she peered back up at him timidly. "It is always a delight to spend time with you, Lizzy. I look forward to that the most on these nights," he began to walk off the path and onto the sand. "Amazin' how the stars look this evenin'," he looked up at the cloudless night sky; the air was crisp, but neither of them could see their breaths in the cold air as they spoke. "You've mentioned before that you like stars," he turned to her before he pulled his hand from her grasp and began to remove his coat.

"I do. Constellations have always fascinated me," she said as she looked up at the sky.

Angelus flung out his coat and smiled at her before laying it on the sandy beach. He offered his hand to her once more, "Would you care for a seat, my dear?"

"Thank you," Elizabeth graciously accepted his hand and sat down.

Angelus joined her. He stretched out his long legs in front of him as he glanced to her, "I haven't been too keen with the science of astronomy. Actually, for the majority of my living life, there wasn't much that had been of interest to me," he chuckled. "I suppose having an immortal and indefinite life expectancy puts a little perspective on things. Perhaps you could enlighten me in that field?" he smiled.

"When I was a little girl, I would sneak into my father's study; he kept a star map there. I would take it outside with me to see if I could find any constellations," Elizabeth turned to him with a wistful smile. "There is a story behind each of them," she looked back up at the sky. "Like those two right there," she pointed as Angelus looked skyward, "Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. According to Greek mythology, Zeus was in love with a human woman called Callisto. His wife Hera was ever so jealous and was determined to exact her vengeance. As she was approaching them, having ill preparation, Zeus transformed Callisto into a bear in an attempt to hide her. Still being suspicious of her husband despite seeing him alone, Hera had Zeus return with her to Mount Olympus, leaving Callisto in her animal state.

"Later that day, Callisto's son, Arcas, went into the woods to hunt. He came across the bear and shot an arrow through its heart, only to see it change back into his dying mother. Realising he had killed her, he knew that her changed form was caused by Zeus. His heartbroken crying turned to anger, and he became so loud that Zeus could hear him.

"Zeus knew if he could hear his crying, Hera could as well; he did not want his wife finding out about his affair, so he returned to earth to persuade Arcas to keep it a secret. He changed Callisto's body back into a bear and placed it in the sky as one of the largest constellations. Arcas joined her amongst the stars as the smaller one. You can see it is turned towards Ursa Major, a sign that Arcas was looking to his mother. That way, he could watch over her for all eternity," her voice held a dreamlike quality to it as she gazed at the stars.

"That's a lovely story," Angelus smiled, "but, do you mind showing me again? It's a bit hard to locate a couple o' stars out of the lot of many," he chuckled. "Is it that one?" he pointed at a small cluster before glancing to her. "Or that one?" he pointed at another.

"There they are," she glanced back at him before turning back to the sky. "They look like spoons. That is why they are also known as the Big and Little Dipper. See?" she said as she traced them with her finger. "The smaller one almost appears upside down so it can watch over the larger one."

"Hmm, spoons?" Angelus' eyes continued to sweep the sky as he leaned his head in close next to hers. "Show me again?" he said a little quieter, smiling as he turned to glance at her, his nose and lips brushing against the curtain of her hair in that small movement. He kept his finger upward, "Draw it out for me," he leaned in closer still as he glanced back up at the sky, letting his arm graze against her guiding hand.

Elizabeth giggled a little. She bit down on her lower lip, "Here," she said softly as she placed her hand atop of his and guided him, "Ursa Major is here," she traced his finger along the constellation. "And Ursa Minor is right above it," she kept her eyes on the stars.

"So it is," Angelus replied. He turned to her and stole a kiss from her cheek. "I'm sorry, I lied; I already knew that. I just wanted to find an excuse to get closer to you," he smiled.

Elizabeth's gaze fell downward to her lap as her cheeks grew red.

Now taking her hand in his, Angelus leaned forward to give her another kiss, this time on the lips.

Elizabeth fluttered her eyes upwards to his face as he drew closer, only to have them sweep shut as his lips pressed against hers. Slowly, she let her hand rest on his cheek.

Angelus' lips curled up into a smile, feeling the hesitation and inexperience in her touch. He mirrored her, but with a more guided and firmer hand as he stroked the hairs away from her face, then let his fingers slide back down over her soft and youthful cheek.

Elizabeth yielded to his touch, leaning ever so slightly in favour towards his palm without compromising their kiss. Like in her dream, she could feel an indescribable thrill inside of her. The caress of his fingers left her skin tingling; she could feel the flesh on her arms turn to goose pimples. Even though the cold didn't seem to bother her so much now as it did in life, she knew it had to do with what Angelus was doing to her and her feelings towards him. The sensations of his lips alone exhilarated her and made her weak all at once. She was almost glad his hand was there to hold her in place.

Angelus pulled back and glanced down at her as he tucked a long strand of her hair behind her ear. Elizabeth peered up at him, her lids languidly opening as if she were drunk. Feeling the minute tug of her hair against her scalp caused her to involuntarily shiver. Angelus smiled as he leaned in, giving her gentle and intermittent pecks on her lips. He pressed forward on his other hand, allowing the one on her cheek to drop as he gingerly touched her knee, letting it rest there lightly before he stopped again to look at her and smile. Elizabeth's back tensed ever so slightly.

"We should… carry on with our evening hunts, before the night escapes us," he said sheepishly.

With her eyes cast down, Elizabeth nodded. She almost didn't comprehend his suggestion, being too distracted where his hand was. Feeling the weight through the thick fabric of her dress was enough to cause the same sensation there as she had felt when he had touched her bare cheek. But it was with this small action that she remembered her place: she was a lady and had been raised as such. Everything that they had been doing was scandalous under the public eye, and especially God's. All her feelings of happiness and desire for Angelus were now overshadowed by undeniable guilt. It was also at that moment of realisation that she recalled her dream and the question that Angelus had asked of her. She now knew the answer, but she found little pleasure with it when she would be reminded of her restraint when they would be spending their time together.

Angelus stood as he brushed the sand from his legs and offered his hand to help her up. It took Elizabeth a moment to gather her thoughts before she complied. She shook the remnants of sand from her skirt as Angelus picked up his coat to do the same. After he put it on, he comfortably wrapped his hand around into Elizabeth's as they walked forward.

As if his hand were a bandage to her racing thoughts, Elizabeth's anxiety slowly ebbed away and she found herself lost in her feelings of warmth again.

┼†‡

Angelus let Elizabeth roam free to bait her next victim as he watched with silent indifference from the shadows. It had become something habitual, something that wasn't really worth another thought or sympathetic glance as they took their leave; the scoundrels she picked were just cattle and her source of food- nothing more. When she had finished, he had walked away with her, hand in hand, laughing as he resumed a joke he had started before the man had approached her.

They weaved around different streets of the city with the growing night, places they had not yet explored, soon to find themselves back along the promenade as the di Bazza estate loomed up ahead in their sights. Time had passed quickly between them, even though it was past midnight.

Elizabeth slowed her steps, shuffling her feet so that she could prolong her time with Angelus, even if by a few minutes. That sinking feeling she'd have each time their evenings together ended welled inside of her the closer they approached their homestead, and when they had finally climbed the steps, she couldn't help but feel helpless and give into their indefinite departure. She sighed softly with a bowed head, deciding it would be best if she initiated things rather than wait for him.

When they approached the door, Elizabeth reached for the knob only to be briskly pulled to the side. Angelus took hold of her face within his hands, forcing Elizabeth to face him as she stared up at him in surprise. Before she could utter a word, he brought his mouth down to hers. His kiss almost seemed feverish, like he was hungry, and there was only something from her lips that could sustain him. Elizabeth didn't even realise she had shut her eyes; her once tense posture melted into his form and an uninhibited mewl came from her throat. In a moment, it was over. Angelus moved back and turned around to see Drusilla and Spike returning; they were in each other's arms as they smiled and giggled.

Elizabeth pressed her hand to the doorframe to steady herself, the other to her chest as she tried to collect her bearings. She peered up to see her sire and Drusilla coming towards them. Usually happy to see her grandsire, her expression this time conveyed disappointment. She had hoped Angelus' unannounced kiss would have lasted longer.

"You appear to have settled matters quickly," Angelus commented.

Spike glanced up at him, his smile dimming, "Yeah, we reconciled our differences. Over a warm meal."

Drusilla perked up as she neared, "You didn't come," she said to Elizabeth, turning her lips downwards into a pout, but still smiling with her eyes.

Elizabeth pushed herself off the frame and locked her knees to keep them from buckling. She smiled warmly, "I am so sorry, grandmother, we were too caught up in our own affairs to notice the late hour. I hoped you had a lovely time," she stood especially straight.

Spike continued with his line of indifference, "Yeah, you missed one hellavuh show, mate," he looked to Angelus, then flicked his gaze over to Elizabeth almost reluctantly. There was obvious soot smeared across his face and clothes, and dirt ingrained on the elbows of his coat and knees of his trousers. Drusilla had somehow managed to keep herself relatively clean- the front of her, at least. The back of her dress was a different matter altogether.

"They was all cracklin' and bubblin'," she waggled her fingers in the air as she raised a clawed hand, "heard 'em whisperin' tears from their fiery graves," she laughed.

"Yes, I can still smell them on you," Angelus swiped a gloved hand down over the sleeve of his coat as he carefully inspected something that had settled on it. "Wouldn't want to raise any suspicions from the keep now, would you?" he looked back up at them. "You did get rid of the carriage, yes?"

"'Course we did," Spike scoffed, "you think we'd be idiotic enough to keep that thing around?"

Angelus merely looked at him.

Drusilla watched her sire and grandprogeny as she pressed closer to Spike's side and hid her mouth against his shoulder. Her smile was secretive as she gave a small giggle, "We played 'Hatchet'," she said, looking to Elizabeth.

Spike glanced to Elizabeth again, then back to Drusilla, "We shouldn't be idling outside like hounds, love. Let's get you inside and in a nice, hot bath," he started to pull her forward.

"In cream?" she glanced up at his face as she leaned against him.

"Want me to make you a bisque?" he grinned at her as he pressed his forehead against hers.

"Sounds delicious," she giggled.

They pushed past into the doors before Angelus or Elizabeth had a chance to and giggled as they ran up the stairs like children.

Angelus watched them from behind before looking to Elizabeth and smiled. He took her hand into his as they calmly walked in together and made their way up the stairs. By then, Elizabeth had managed to find some feeling in her legs and was thankful she could at least walk. "I don't think they suspect anything," Angelus said quietly, "they were a little too preoccupied with themselves to notice, I'd think." Elizabeth bowed her head and giggled softly as she nodded.

He stopped in front of her bedroom door as he watched her, "'Good night, good night!'" he kissed her on the hand twice, "'Parting is such sweet sorrow,'" he smiled.

With blushing cheeks, Elizabeth responded, "'That I shall say good night till it be morrow.'" She opened her door from behind, keeping her starry gaze towards Angelus before taking a step back into her room and closing it softly to his smiling face.

Elizabeth stood by her door and waited till she could no longer hear the sound of his shoes against the hallway floors as he retired to his bedroom. Her calm demeanour quickly turned into giddy delight as she grinned and twirled herself in dance till she collapsed in bed in soft laughter. Words could not describe how happy she was to be in love with a man like Angelus. Surly they were preserved in their unnatural state so that they could meet, being they were born in different times. Perhaps this new 'unlife'- as her sire put it- was something to be cherished after all. Maybe she had her sire to thank, seeing as she wouldn't have met Angelus, otherwise. This thought put her sour mood she had previously reserved for him to rest. She had far more important things on her mind than holding a silly grudge on her sire's juvenile behaviour.

Finally getting ready for bed, Elizabeth pulled herself up and began to hum as she continued to dance about her room; the close approaching Christmas Eve party only added to her excitement. When she was finally dressed in her nightgown and had her hair brushed and pleated, Elizabeth settled down in bed with a book.

┼†‡

Drusilla hummed with closed eyes as Spike mopped at her wet hair with a towel, "I smell daisies," she smiled, tilting her head towards his busy hands.

"Think it's those flowers I picked from a couple nights ago. They're rotting in the corner now," Spike had a towel around his own neck. The pair sat perched across from each other on the edge of the bed.

Drusilla opened her eyes and looked at him, pulling forward as she grasped at his towel and began to muss at his own dripping hair, "We could pick 'em. I could make a crown of daisies and place it on your head."

Spike smiled, "They don't grow around this time of year, love. Wait till spring."

Drusilla fluffed at his hair with her fingers, "Amazin' how water doesn't even seem to put it out," she marvelled as her eyes fixated above his crown.

"Fish?" Spike asked absently, ever so diligent at his task.

"No… they were just there 'cause they were attracted to the glow of your burning halo…," she said softly, eyes still distant.

Spike laughed at that, "You sayin' I'm a Prince of Darkness?" he joked.

She brought her hand down to the side of his face, lowering her gaze to stare into his; her eyes were focused, "There's a glory that burns in you, a champion just waitin' to be welcomed into this world."

Spike smiled at her as he tugged her in close by the waist; Drusilla gave a small and excited yelp, "If I'm to be a champion, this Dark Prince," he dragged his palm over the side of her face and shoulder, and let it settle on her breast, "I'll make you my queen." He smirked before he sank his mouth onto hers, grasping at the mound beneath the thin material of her chemise. He edged them both farther onto the bed till she fell back against the sheets and pillows, then pressed down on top of her. Her hands frantically pawed at his back, snatching the towel away from his neck as her fingers found their way into his still damp curls.

Two days of abstinence seemed like an eternity too many, lost time the male seemed to try to make up for. Drusilla uncoiled her hands from his neck, lancing them downwards over his shoulders as she dragged them along his chest. Four lines of red slowly appeared behind where her nails had raked his skin and she pulled herself forward to lap at his blood. Spike shoved her back down with a firm grip, causing her to gasp. She looked at him with smouldering eyes, her lips curling upwards in undeniable delight.

He bent down over her, pressing his forehead to hers as he nuzzled her nose, "Oh, Dru, my love…," he moaned, devouring her lips into a kiss. Her mouth tasted of his blood, sweet and metallic, "My dark queen…," he whispered.

Their love making was chaotic and turbulent, unhinged and uninhibited.

┼†‡

Elizabeth's perfect silence was broken with the sudden sound of loud moaning and the rhythmic thumping of a headboard hitting against the wall. She dropped her book and covered her ears with her hands but it did little to drown out her sires' love making. Shuffling down into her sheets, she turned to her side and sandwiched her head between two pillows. It helped to keep the bulk of the sound away, but not all of it. She could very well avoid the noise by going to Angelus' room, she thought. Just as fleeting as that thought had been, her moral reasoning reminded her how unladylike that would be. She certainly did not want Angelus to get the wrong impression of her. With a frustrated sigh, Elizabeth propped another pillow above the one already pressed to her head and endured the muffled noises.

┼†‡

When they had finished, Spike lay back on the bed, arms spread out as he sighed contently at the ceiling.

Drusilla shimmied her dress back down over her legs and adjusted the collar over her shoulders before getting up from the bed.

Spike watched her from behind and sat up, "Where are you going?"

She glanced over her shoulder, "To granddaughter's for a bedtime story," she replied simply.

Spike bolted from the bed and stepped in front of her, blocking her from proceeding further, "No! No more, Dru," he said firmly.

"Why not?" she frowned, her voice taking on the sound of a small and shrill mewl.

It was because of the recent events that had happened. Spike could see where her unhealthy and delusional relationship with her 'granddaughter' was taking her and he did not want her toying with that idea.

She pushed past him and swept the tapestry aside. "I like it when she reads to me," she turned the handle. The door creaked, opening just a gap.

Spike quickly followed. Roughly placing his hand over Drusilla's, he pulled the door back shut, "I can just as easily do that!" He sighed as he paused to see Drusilla pout, "Besides, it's late. She's probably already asleep." As those words left his mouth, he had realised he had spoken too soon.

┼†‡

Elizabeth had removed the pillows once the noises had subsided and continued to read where she had left off. She turned her head to the door, "Grandmother?" she called out.

┼†‡

Drusilla perked up.

"Wait, no, Dru!" Spike held fast to her hand when she tried to jerk at the knob, only causing him to shut it just as quickly.

┼†‡

Knitting her brows together, Elizabeth got out of bed and threw a shawl around her shoulders. She would have already expected to see Drusilla come through, but instead was alarmed to hear the door opening and slamming back shut. It was out of concern that she thought best to investigate.

┼†‡

Drusilla turned to pout at him again, "Let me through, William!" She pressed her hand to the door and called out: "I'll be right there, granddaughter!"

"Dru- No she won't!" Spike growled back.

┼†‡

Elizabeth pulled the tapestry aside and began to open the door, "Grandmother, what is the matter?" her voice sounded small.

Spike yanked at the handle and shut the door in her face, just as he had done so with Drusilla. Elizabeth jumped as the knob was pulled out of her grasp. She stared at the door in alarm.

"That's rude, William!" Drusilla frowned at Spike.

"When has that ever bothered me?" he scoffed. "Nothing's the matter, Saint Mary, just head on back to bed, say your prayers, then go to sleep," he called out.

"Why are you being so difficult?" Drusilla continued to frown at him.

Spike did not like being the cause of her distress. "I… I don't mean to be, love. It's just…, the main reason you're bloody taking off every night to her is so you can just get read to, isn't it? You know I can do that just as well," he replied more reasonably.

"Can you, William? You've never done that for me before."

"Of course I can, pet, you've just… never asked me, have you?"

"Because you're missing your other eyes."

Spike paused, "Well, I've got a surprise for you. Won't you come back to bed with me?" his hand was still resting on top of hers as she remained latched to the doorknob.

┼†‡

Elizabeth frowned as she heard the muffled and ongoing argument taking place behind the closed door. With a heavy sigh and a shake of her head, she lifted her hands up in surrender and let the tapestry fall back in place. "Grouch," she breathed as she trudged back to bed, this time to sleep.

┼†‡

Spike listened to the sound of Elizabeth walk away from the door and let out a small sigh of relief.

"A surprise? Thought you already gave it to me," Drusilla commented.

Spike looked to her and paused again. "No, not that- unless, you want to again. But, no, I mean- just come and see, will you?" He waited as he watched her glance down, then peered back up at him. Feeling as though she was more stable, he released his hold and she then let go of the doorknob, allowing the tapestry to swing down and hide the door. Spike held her hand as he guided her back to the bed and sat her down, "Wait here."

He went to where his coat was hanging and searched the pockets till he found what he was looking for; Drusilla watched him from behind with curiosity. Spike turned back around and picked up a book from the dresser before returning to her side.

Drusilla smiled excitedly as she glanced down at what was in his grasp, "You've found your eyes!" she gave a small clap.

"Well, not really. Took 'em off the bloke you had for supper," he unfolded the hinges of the spectacles and began to clean the lenses with the sheets, raising them up to his face as he squinted through them.

Drusilla giggled and pulled them from his grasp, "Not his any more." She placed them on for him and beamed, giving a little tilt of her head as she admired his revisted look, "Like the night I found you, remember?" They were not unlike the ones he had previously owned in his former life, save for the frame being silver instead of gold coloured and slightly more oblong in shape.

Spike pushed them back against the bridge of his nose, feeling them slip a bit with their weight, "How could I forget?" he turned to look at her and smiled. "It was like yesterday," he leaned in and kissed her. Turning back to the book in hand, he adjusted his spectacles once more before leaning back against the pillows and turned the nightstand lantern on a brighter flame.

Drusilla snuggled into his side, pressing her head against his chest as she glanced down at the cover, "'Little Men'," she read, "they small enough to fit in my hand?" she glanced up at him.

Spike laughed and peered down at her, "No, not 'little' in a physical sense. You'll see; you'll like it," he replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as he opened the book with his other hand. Spiked blinked as his eyes adjusted with his newfound vision, "These are a little strong, but they'll do," he sighed, finding that they were infinitely better than not being able to discern the text at all or fall to the fate of getting his nose rubbed raw with black ink. He began to read- now having gone through the first chapter three times in total- till he had gone past the third chapter.

He paused for a moment when he noticed the silence within the room and glanced down at Drusilla's still form. "Dru?" he called out softly. "Are you still awake, love?"

She gave no reply.

He slowly closed the book and set it and his spectacles aside, then reached over to snuff out the light. Very carefully, he lay her down on the pillows next to him and pulled the sheets up over her.

She had managed to take care of him for the past few days, but now it was his turn to do the same for her. He would have to protect her from herself.

 


	34. Day 38: A Christmas Carol

There was a rapping at Elizabeth's door in the late morning. "Mademoiselle, Monsieur Gautier is here to see you," the maid called out cheerfully.

Elizabeth eagerly answered it; the maid stepped aside, but hovered behind the dressmaker. "Monsieur Gautier, what a pleasant surprise!" Elizabeth said with a smile, a smile that grew when she saw the box in his arms. "Is that the dress?" she asked with wide eyes. The maid also peered at it curiously.

"Yes, it is," Jean-Baptiste laughed, unable to greet her with the normal clasp of his hands and kisses as he so often did. He stepped into the room as the maid's inquisitive eyes lingered after the box. She turned away soon after with some disappointment as she was no longer needed.

"I worked tirelessly with this one!" the dressmaker settled the box down on the bed and smiled at Elizabeth. "And yes, I am aware I say that about every dress I make, but I swear," he pressed his right hand to his chest, "this one almost brought me to an early grave," he gazed at her over the rim of his spectacles with a twinkle of humour in his eyes. "Are you ready?"

Elizabeth nodded in earnest like a little girl waiting for a treat.

He smiled at her before turning around, then beckoned her over to stand next to him, "Come, come, you must see this for yourself!" Elizabeth joined him as he opened the lid. As he carefully pulled the crepe paper aside, the beauty of the white and gold dress was revealed- the lines seamless and the strips of fur soft and fluffy as though it had been brushed.

"Oh my…, it's beautiful…. You have outdone yourself, sir," she said as she traced her fingertips along the soft trimming.

Jean-Baptiste pulled it out and carefully draped it over his arm, "Shall we get you dressed in this?" he smiled.

┼†‡

Meanwhile, Spike had woken up to an early start, hoping to fetch a few bottles of wine from the cellar before he was met with any of the kitchen staff. Though when he walked out, he did not expect to see a small huddle of maids outside of Elizabeth's door. He raised a brow at their unprofessionalism, but did nothing to stop them as he continued on his way downstairs.

The help were pushing against each other as they tried to spy through the keyhole for a glimpse of the dress. One whispered that she had seen something glamourous and white. At that, another had nudged her way to the front. She gasped excitedly as she peered bent over in front of the keyhole. It wasn't long before the next girl ambled her way forward to take a peek as well.

┼†‡

Elizabeth could barely stand still as Jean-Baptiste securely fastened her bodice. She fidgeted and let out a soft sigh as he stepped behind her to smooth out the bloom of her skirt.

"We are almost done, Mademoiselle," he smiled, his voice almost teasing.

Elizabeth cupped her hands over her mouth out of embarrassment and giggled, "I do apologise." She glanced over her shoulder at him, "I am just excited to be in costume so soon. I cannot wait to see when you have finished."

He smiled, "And you shall wait no more. We are done," he clasped his hands in front of him.

"Yes?" her smile broadened. She stood a step away and scrunched up the fabric of her skirt in one hand as she spun around slowly. She had had beautiful gowns made for her before, but in this, she felt like a princess.

The sound of a high pitched squeal suddenly alerted her as both she and the dressmaker's head turned abruptly to the door.

┼†‡

"Hush! You're being too loud!" one of the maids whispered heatedly.

"You stepped on my foot!" another retorted as she glared at the fourth girl.

"You've all had your turns, now it's mine," she replied simply, keeping her eye level with the keyhole.

"Hush!"

As the other maids tried to keep the other one's bickering and complaints at bay, the spying girl was met with disappointment; the dress had disappeared, as well as the young mistress.

"I… I don't see anything," she squinted, turning her body awkwardly to see if she had a better chance of seeing the room from a slightly different angle. Before she knew it, the view from the keyhole had completely gone black. She pulled back and rubbed at her eye and lowered herself once more.

"What's wrong?" one of the girl's whispered.

"I… I don't see anything. It's like night in there," she replied in confusion.

"That's absurd," another replied. "Let me take a look-"

Just as the two girls began to fuss over that, the door opened to reveal Elizabeth in her dress. The maids peered up at her slowly from their hunkered positions, flushing in embarrassment at having been caught.

"What do you ladies think?" Elizabeth smiled.

They quickly straightened themselves up and clasped their hands in front of them.

"Y-yes, it's lovely, Mademoiselle."

"Very pretty."

"I've never seen such a lovely dress before in my life!"

"Mademoiselle, might I… touch it?"

The maids had all been relatively shy and polite at that point, but the fourth one had dared herself to test her boundaries. They all turned to look at her in shock.

Elizabeth nodded, "Of course!" she replied happily.

The brave maid beamed as she pushed forward past her peers. As she stood in front of the mistress, she glanced to her once more as though for permission before peering down at the gown. She scrunched at the front of her own dress and wiped at her hands hard before she tentatively lifted the skirt. She marvelled at the velvety texture, "It is so… beautiful…," she whispered, glancing back up at the mistress.

The other maids began to huddle around as they vied to have a closer look.

"Um… could I also, Mademoiselle…," another girl began, feeling like she now had the opportunity like her peer had.

"Yes, and me, too!"

"We would all like a closer look, if- if you'll allow us, Mademoiselle."

They all looked to Elizabeth urgently and expectantly, obviously jealous that the one who was the most outspoken and rude had been given the privilege out of all of them.

Elizabeth smiled and nodded, opening her arms for them to see and feel her gown. Drusilla was wonderful female company, but Elizabeth could not help but wonder if this was what it was like to have many friends.

As the girls crowded around her and admired her gown, Spike returned with a couple of bottles of wine in arm. He slowed as he approached the end of the hallway, raising his brows as he came to the scene of the mob of girls surrounding his progeny. "So the Saint's suddenly got her own entourage?"

The maids jumped and straightened themselves at the sound of his voice. They spun around to see him standing there in his dishevelled shirt and hair.

Elizabeth's smile slowly dissolved from her face.

"Thought with your righteous and religious upbringing, you'd have relinquished this sort of behaviour."

The girls parted from the doorway, standing awkwardly and quietly before giving a nod at Elizabeth and excusing themselves.

Peering past them, Elizabeth straightened her back as she looked at her sire, "I hardly know what you mean. I am not proud, but it is lovely to be complimented."

Spike glanced at the dress she wore for a brief moment before turning to watch the maids pass by; they lowered their heads as they tried to ignore his stare.

"A little uncomely for you, don't you think?" he quipped, returning his gaze to her; he raised his chin up a little like he was making a point.

She glanced down at her new gown, "How so? It is not revealing… is it?" there was a little uncertainty in her voice.

Spike adjusted the wine bottles into the crook of his arm and folded his other arm over. He raised a brow at her, "Suddenly anxious about the way you look? Someone you're lookin' to impress?" he scoffed. He started to grin and laugh, "It's that dandy Niçoise, isn't it?" he giggled some more as he poked fun at her. "A pretty far departure from what you wore at that last party. Had you completely covered up from neck to toe, and now this," he gestured a sweeping hand at her. "Well," he gave a small sigh, "suppose if you are trying to catch someone's eye, you'd probably want to lower the neckline and raise the hemline," he smirked at her before he slipped into his room.

Dropping her gaze to the ground, Elizabeth's brave front was immediately shattered by her sire's callous remarks. She retreated back into her room and closed the door behind her. It was moments like these when she really doubted herself. She did not have to dress a certain way to impress anyone. Though Angelus had told her she was beautiful, her charm and wit were what caught his eye; he could see the beauty within her that others could not.

┼†‡

Upon returning to his room, Spike was warmly greeted by his lover, "William," Drusilla turned from her chair and stood up as she approached him, "off to an early start for celebrations?" she rested her hand against his shoulder and gingerly touched at the arm he was using to carry the wine.

"Wanted to avoid the keep if I could," he replied, "but it appears I couldn't when there was a gaggle of 'em outside the mouse's door," he walked forward and set them down on the vanity.

"What were they doing?" Drusilla asked curiously, following him with her eyes.

"Had her dress sent over," Spike sniffed as he examined the year and label of one of the bottles. "All the maids were just fawning over it," he scoffed.

"Oh, it must have been a sight to behold," Drusilla took a couple small steps forward. "What did it look like?"

"Something white with gold? I… dunno, wasn't really paying much attention," he replied, shrugging a shoulder.

"Sounds like something a fairy princess would wear," Drusilla said dreamily.

Spike glanced up at her and smiled, "Would have looked infinitely better on you, love."

Drusilla smiled and giggled as she shrugged her shoulders upwards at his compliment.

"What plans have you got for today, pet?" Spike asked, pulling her hands into his.

"Christmas is fast approaching. I'd like to prepare some festivities."

"Oh?" Spike wasn't aware that she still continued with holiday traditions. In fact, he wasn't exactly sure what his three elders did for Christmas celebrations, but he'd imagine they'd ere to something more red than green. "What sorts of things did you have in mind?"

"Christmas cards, Christmas crackers…," she counted off her fingers as she mused out loud, "we've always read from 'A Christmas Carol' each year. Stuff stockings with fruits and nuts, maybe a lump of coal or two if you've been naughty," she growled at him.

Spike pulled her closer, "Oh, I've been very bad," he smirked, lowering his head towards hers.

Drusilla pressed a finger to his lips, stopping him from his kiss, "I'll be heading out to town to fetch the supplies." She turned around as she picked up her cape.

"Would you like some company?" Spike asked, taking a step towards her.

"No, I want it to be a surprise!" she smiled at him as she tucked her hair within her hood.

Spike picked up her parasol and handed it to her, "Be safe then, love," he kissed her on the forehead as he carefully adjusted her hood over her face some more. Drusilla gave him a reassuring pat on the cheek before she left the room, leaving him behind as he unhappily watched her go.

Spike gave a sigh as he tidied up his state of dress and put on a coat. He didn't mind when they parted ways to go about their own affairs, but sometimes he did feel a little lonely when she'd leave him to do things by herself. It was a little pathetic, he'd admit, feeling like a lost puppy waiting for his master to return home.

┼†‡

Spike headed downstairs to the library. He was aware that Elizabeth was in there- like she normally was- but it was evident because he could feel her presence. He glanced around the large stacks and let out an exasperated filled sigh past his lips. They had their differences, and he was still upset with her, but he knew when to ask for help- he wasn't that proud.

He passed by the window to see her absent, despite the overcast allowing that area to be dimly lit. Looking across the room, he found the stairs and started to trudge up the loft. "God, she must have made a nest in here," he said after he poked his head up, finding more shelves of books. He continued forward as he browsed the selections around him.

Hearing someone approaching, Elizabeth perked up, hoping that it was Angelus.

"Where are you hiding, Liz?" Spike's voice sounded a little reluctant.

Elizabeth glanced down at her book and paused. His words still stung, but she couldn't avoid her sire if she wanted to, especially now that they were living together. She let out a long sigh before getting up and poking her head out from behind a shelf, "I'm here."

Spike turned at the sound of her voice and caught the sight of her retreating. Following her, he came upon the scene of a cosy setup of tea, "And this is the nest." He raised his brows, "Just need some warm blankets and pillows, and you'll have made yourself a new home."

At his remark, Elizabeth merely smiled from her perch, "I have, haven't I?" she held the saucer and teacup within her lap and carefully brought it to her lips for a sip. "It is quite peaceful up here," she set it back down to her lap. "Care to join me?" she looked up at him with a small smile. Trying to get past their small disagreement from that morning, Elizabeth also kept in mind the advice he had imparted on her the other night. Each time he would test her patience, and with each passing day, she would try her hand at her growing confidence.

"No," Spike sighed, "I didn't come to join your tea party; I came here to locate a book. And seeing as you've pretty much familiarised yourself with everything, I thought you could help me," he admitted. "I'm just aware of the small collection of English poetry, but I wouldn't be so sure if the Niçoise's got something so specific. I mean, I wouldn't even be sure if any bookshops here would sell an English edition," he rubbed at his face in thought, "they'd probably be all in French," he sighed.

"I can help you. What is it that you're looking for?" she set her tea down on the table.

"'A Christmas Carol'," he said, looking to her.

"That is a lovely story."

"It's a classic," he agreed. "Well," he sighed as he raised his brows and peered down before glancing up at her, "shall we get to it, then?" He turned on his spot and began to head back downstairs, "Where shall we start?"

Elizabeth stood and looked around her, "The bulk of English works is up here. We can divide the searching- I upstairs and you downstairs."

Spike waved his hand in acknowledgement as he continued down.

Finding a lantern perched on one of the side shelves, he lit it and carried it to a row of shady books, figuring he'd start off in the area where he had found his English poetry. He sighed as he raised the light towards the spines, squinting a bit to try and read the titles as he slightly canted his head. Continuing forward as he scanned them, he found the majority to be titles of published poetry. He sighed, "Maybe it's not in this section after all," he said to himself. "Any luck at your end?" he called out.

Elizabeth was standing tip-toed on a chair as she was reading the titles on the higher shelves, "N-none so far," she called back, all the while focusing on not falling.

Spike let out an audible sigh as he turned back to glance at the books in front of him. It'd probably take them a few solid hours to locate one specific item, and after all that perusing, they might not end up finding it at all. He wondered if it was worth combing through all those volumes or if they'd be better off foregoing that tedious task and finding a bookshop that might, on some very small chance, carry it. Oh, the things he did for love.

He sighed again.

Having managed to clear the lower levels of one wall, he raised the light to look at the books that were a little higher. He'd eventually have to use the ladder to scan all the ones on the top. He started to unconsciously hum the tune to 'The Wassail Song', a common Christmas song he'd often hear carolers sing that would visit his door. Soon trailing off as he hovered over a title, he pulled the book out and flipped through it. Perching the lantern on the rung above him, he sat on the ladder as he turned to the first page, then, pulling out his newly acquired spectacles, put them on as he began to read.

Unlike her sire, Elizabeth willingly embraced the holiday spirit. She hummed one of her favourite childhood carols- 'Up on the Housetop'- as she tapped along with the melody on each book. When she reached the end of the shelf, she hopped down from the chair and proceeded downstairs in search of her sire.

"Have you found it yet?" she asked as she peeked around each bookshelf. "I had no luck up there."

Spike paid little attention to his surroundings as he read. Not noticing the impending footsteps of his progeny, he only grew semiconscious of the sound of a woman mildly speaking to him.

Elizabeth turned to see a figure from the corner of her eye and began to head towards her sire, only to slow as she neared. "You wear spectacles?" she asked, a quaint tone of curiosity to her voice.

"Hmm?" he blinked as he glanced up to see Elizabeth standing a few feet away from him, unwittingly pushing up his said spectacles by grasping the frame with his thumb and index finger. It was with the combined look of surprise on her face and realisation of the question that she had asked, that it began to dawn on him- he was still wearing them. His blank look slowly morphed into a one of bewilderment, his eyes widening as he stared back at her. "Well, I-I…," he began, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for wearing them, but seeing as he couldn't come up with something logical, and perhaps thinking it uncouth for denying something that was so blatantly obvious, just gave up. He sighed and scrunched his face at her, "Being turned into a vampire doesn't cure one of nearsightedness, you know?" He snapped his book closed as he pushed himself off the ladder, "Out of all the preternatural powers we're bestowed in this immortal life, you'd think absolving the small issue of vision impairment would have been one of them." He turned around as he looked back to the shelves, giving his spectacles another push with the back as his hand as he felt them slipping, "'Dying from syphilis or consumption? Cured! Suffering from myopia? Sorry, mate, seems a bit farfetched for the likes of this dark gift'," he rambled. He turned to glance at her, "But to answer your first question, no, I haven't." He turned back to the books, "It's too bloody damned difficult searching for one specific thing. If you look along the other side of the stacks, we can cover this area quicker," he glanced back at her.

After listening to her sire's long-winded yet reasonable drivel, Elizabeth nodded, "I only have till sunset," she turned and glanced over her shoulder at him, "I'm heading out soon."

"Fine," Spike called after her as she began to walk away, "and if we can't find it in this bloody library, I'll have to go and see about locating it from a bookshop."

He slid the ladder farther along as he peered at the higher shelves. After climbing up, he folded his arms on one of the rungs and rested his chin atop of them. His eyes wandered over the titles, "Wouldn't have thought I'd be spending my time like this on a perfectly fine day," he mumbled. He shifted from his position and slid the ladder along by pushing against the shelves. This caused some dust to settle in the air in front of him and made him sneeze. "Don't the maids ever dust in here?" he sniffed as he scrunched his nose, feeling another sneeze about to come. He paused when nothing happened and looked back to the books. "The dandy needs to hire new staff," he grumbled before finally letting out that other sneeze.

Standing on a ladder at the other end of the shelves, Elizabeth tried to contain her giggling each time he sneezed. She climbed higher when her gaze fell over the gilded lettering of a familiar title. An excited smile overcame her face as she reached for it. She pressed forward on her toes and fully extended her arm as her fingertips just managed to nudge it out enough for her to grasp. "I foun- ah!" she yelped as she lost her balance. This was followed by a loud thump and groan as she fell backwards several feet to the floor. "I… found it," she moaned with the book clutched to her chest.

"Did you?" Spike glanced down at her before scrambling down the ladder and hopping off the last rung. Wth quick step, he stood over her as he peered down at her sprawled figure, then tilted his head as he examined the bookcover. "So, you have!" his face lit up cheerfully. Plucking it from her grasp, he began to flip through it, "Drusilla will be so pleased," he smiled.

Elizabeth rolled to her side and slowly pushed herself upright. As she sat there, she took a moment to gather her bearings before she rose to her feet. She moaned again as she straightened her sore back, then glanced to her sire with a small frown, "The hour seems safe enough. I shall return shortly."

"Yes, yes," he waved her off without so much as glancing up from the book.

Elizabeth slowly turned and retreated out the door with her hand pressed to her lower back.

┼†‡

Spike had returned to his bedroom and set the book down onto the vanity.

As his mind wandered, he began to speculate what role he had in this whole… new scheme of family traditions. This was his first Christmas away from his mother, and his first with Drusilla. It had somehow caused heartache and his heartstrings to be pulled all at once.

He paused to wonder now about getting a gift for his lover. It would have to be something splendid and memorable, something to set the tone of these new holiday memories they'd be spending together for the years to come. Finding that he was the only one left in the manor, he decided he would go out and peruse the city for something befitting his queen.

He retrieved one of the umbrellas from Angelus' room and headed out for his own adventure.

┼†‡

Dressed in her cloak, Elizabeth's pained frown was replaced with an excited smile that showed in equal measure in her gait, her strained limp from before nonexistent. She clutched her small purse close to her as she moved in the city. First stepping in a toyshop, she purchased a small rocking chair fit for a doll and had it boxed. She carried that, along with some additional ribbon and paper as she walked outside in search for her next item. Keeping vigilant as she peered into each passing shop window, she came across a quill set that caught her eye. She smiled and added that to her growing items. It was a small balancing act having to carry everything by herself, but Elizabeth managed by tucking the paper underneath her arm and had the quill set perched on top of the box. Still, she had one more purchase to make, one that would be perfect.

After an hour of aimless roaming, she came upon a small trader shop that sold men's wares by the water. It sat in the near distance as it called to her, as if it had been waiting for her all that time. She smiled; she knew she would find that perfect gift there.

Pushing past the door, she peered around her in curious wonder. The air smelled like shaved wood, varnish, and metal.

"What is it that a lovely girl like yourself might be looking for, dear?" a little, old man hobbled towards her as he hunched over the aid of a cane. He smiled at her as he approached, his merry face laced with wrinkles. "Please, set your things aside and rest your weary arms," he indicated to the counter as he walked forward.

Elizabeth followed behind, "I am looking for the perfect present… for my love," Elizabeth smiled timidly, almost blushing at her admission. She set her items down.

"Oh, what a lucky man to have a girl like you hold his heart. Pray tell, what is this man like?"

Elizabeth glanced down, "He is kind, gentle, but also the strongest man I have ever met," her smile grew wider as she spoke of him.

"Then a simple clock or watch will not do, no…," he mused as he stroked his white whiskers. "Hmm, come. Come over to the case," he guided her over and pulled a key out from around his neck. Unlocking the case door, he took out a smallsword and laid it on the counter, "Perhaps this will please him?" It was approximately thirty-eight inches in length, the blade thin and tapered and sheathed in black. Adorned at the top of the hilt was a silver eagle's head; the knuckle-bow wrapped upward where it fed into the eagle's beak.

Elizabeth looked at it with wonder as she ran a gloved finger down it, "It's perfect…. I hope he will like it."

As the man placed it into a long box, he chuckled, "Trust me, dear, the man would even be happy to receive shoelaces from a beauty like yourself. I was young once, you know."

Elizabeth smiled, this time unable to suppress the blush that spread across her cheeks. She paid and thanked the man as she rearranged the packages in her arms and hurried back to the manor.

Once she was in the safety of her bedroom, Elizabeth set herself to wrapping the gifts. She started with her sire's and Drusilla's, but it was with Angelus' that she took the most time and utmost care.

┼†‡

Drusilla had also returned with several paper bags pressed to her chest as she surreptitiously crept upstairs. After tucking her items away into her undergarment drawer, she noticed the book Spike had left on the vanity and smiled as she brushed a hand over the cover.

"Oh, hush you two," Drusilla turned to the two dolls perched nearby and started to giggle. Shrugging a shoulder, she said with a smitten smile: "I already know that." Suddenly straightening up, her expression went blank, then slowly turned to one of torment. "Oh, no!" she wailed as she grasped the sides of her head, shaking it vigorously as her curls bounced in front of her. "Leon was the one to remind us! We've missed stir-up Sunday completely! There won't be Christmas pudding!" she moaned. She raised her head and breathed deeply as she glared at her dolls, "You are not to speak of such ill things, Miss Edith!" she said in a warning tone, raising a pointed finger. "You would sacrifice your slice of cake, Miss Corrine?" Drusilla turned to the cracked doll, then picked it up. Walking across the room, she replaced it on top of the wardrobe and turned it towards the wall, "You are to be separated till you learn your lesson," she said in a firm tone.

┼†‡

Hearing sounds of distress from next door, Elizabeth carefully hid her gifts underneath her bed before walking to the hidden doorway. She knocked before slowly opening it, "Grandmother? Are you all right?" She walked in with slow caution in case her sire was present, but only saw her grandsire. Her brows upturned in concern.

"Granddaughter?" Drusilla turned her head towards her. Her frown lifted into a smile as she approached, "Grandmum is all right, lovey," she took her by the hands. "How's about we head on down to the kitchen and make something sweet for this festive occasion?" she tilted her head towards her shoulder before letting a small giggle escape.

Elizabeth didn't have time to respond before she was being pulled along.

"Come, come," Drusilla tugged her forward as she took off into a light trot, and laughed with mischief as they scurried down the stairs.

┼†‡

Drusilla stood idly outside the kitchen as she peeked in through the doorway, watching as the staff busily prepared dinner. "Something sweet enough to settle the poison," she whispered with a smile.

Elizabeth giggled behind her, feeling that same thrill she had that night she and her sire had played that game of cards and dares.

Drusilla stood and glanced over her shoulder at Elizabeth, "We'll need to see if they have enough nuts."

Pushing past the door, she stood and glanced around her at the bustle and noise, "Bonsoir!" she called out.

Some of the staff paused to glance up at her, then carried on as if she wasn't worth their time.

"It's her again," someone whispered in a low voice.

"We can't have her in the kitchen; she'll make a disaster of everything," another said.

Following behind, Elizabeth caught their words. She shot a calm yet protective look at them with her eyes.

The kitchen staff lowered their gaze, straightening their backs as they continued with their work in silence. They were reminded that she could understand them, so they would have to mind themselves to speak too freely.

Drusilla walked forward and found a spot at the counter. Rearranging some things for more space, she glanced up and beckoned Elizabeth to stand next to her.

Elizabeth smiled as Drusilla found a large bowl, "May we make butter biscuits? I would often help make them as a little girl." It was uncommon for a lady of her status doing a servant's job, being a daughter of a duke, but with her natural inclination to curiosity and compassion to people with less fortunate circumstances, she often found herself wandering to the kitchen. There, the staff didn't push her away; she wasn't told that she was too little to understand or in the way, instead, they allowed her to watch silently, and eventually allowed her to help with mixing simple ingredients. As she grew older, she could replicate every recipe she had seen them make, even if she hadn't been fully tasked to recreating a dish herself. But that was only with the baked sweets she was so fond of.

"Butter biscuits…," Drusilla glanced to the side as though she were recalling a memory, "no, no… we never made those," she frowned, jutting her lower lip out in a small pout. "We mostly made cakes, tarts, and pies," she said, looking to Elizabeth with disappointment.

Elizabeth gave her a reassuring smile and nodded, "Tarts we will make, then- as long as I get to help," she added.

Drusilla's pout slowly turned into a pleased smile, "All right. First we'll need to gather the proper ingredients," she turned as she scooped the bowl into her arms and walked to the pantry- obviously familiar with where it was since the last time she had visited and cooked in the kitchen; Elizabeth followed closely behind. "We'll need flour, sugar, salt, eggs, butter…," Drusilla rambled out loud as she searched for the items, "and pears," she glanced at Elizabeth and smiled, "the most important things. Fetch me a few of the best ones, love," she instructed as she started to compile the other items into her bowl.

With a nod, Elizabeth gathered a few pears into her arms, being mindful not to crush or bruise them.

Coming back out into the kitchen, they were met with a few curious glances as some of the maids slowed to see what it was they were about to prepare.

Drusilla found some more bowls and utensils. "Do you know how to skin and core a pear?" she asked gently as she looked to Elizabeth; she set the ingredients out on the counter as she prepared the bowl.

"I have done so a couple of times before." Elizabeth said with an affirming nod. Though it had taken her an incredible amount of persuasion to get her cooks to even let her handle a small paring knife, she had managed one after she had swiped it off the counter when one of the kitchen staff had turned away. She smiled at the thought of that as she peeled the pears, humming to herself merrily, but warily glancing around at the curious staff.

"Be careful, love, it is quite sharp," Drusilla said with some motherly concern.

Elizabeth smiled at her with a nod, "I will, do not worry."

Drusilla watched Elizabeth work for a little while before she turned to mind her own task. It wasn't long before her ingredients had taken the form of a mass of soft dough. She covered this with a plate and set it to chill in the pantry. As she waited for Elizabeth to finish up with the pears, she began to help her slice them into another bowl. "That's it dovey, you're doing a lovely job," she smiled.

The kitchen staff could not help but glance curiously at this development, noticing the change of behaviour the girl had on the unstable woman; she seemed to calm her considerably, acting as some sort of aide to allow her to function as though she were actually… normal.

When they had finished, Drusilla tossed the pears in cinnamon spice, sugar, and lemon juice, "A little trick my mummy showed me," she giggled. She pierced a small piece and handed it to Elizabeth to try as she popped a piece in her own mouth, "Mm, tastes like Christmas," she grinned.

Elizabeth tried her sample, "Mm, it's delicious!" her eyes widened and an undeniable and happy smile spread across her cheeks.

The kitchen staff smiled at this small exchange.

Pushing the bowl and utensils aside, Drusilla turned on her spot, "And now we wait for another half hour till the dough is ready," she tilted her head as she glanced to Elizabeth and sighed.

Some of the kitchen staff began to whisper amongst themselves. Elizabeth turned her head sharply at this, expecting them to speak ill of her grandsire. As one of the girls was pushed forward, Elizabeth raised an arched brow.

"Um, Mademoiselles, would you like… to help us make something else while you wait?" she offered, looking towards Elizabeth before taking a shy glance in Drusilla's direction.

Elizabeth's arched brow soon turned into two raised brows of surprise. She smiled and nodded, "Sounds like fun. What do you think, grandmother? Would you like to make something else in the meantime?" she turned to Drusilla with a cheery smile.

"I would like to help!" Drusilla beamed, giving a small excited hop and a tiny clap of her fingers.

"Would you allow me, Mademoiselle?" one of the maids came over with a couple of aprons as she made herself present. She smiled politely as Drusilla glanced to her before wrapping one around her waist, then tied it from behind. Drusilla raised her arms slightly and glanced down as this was happening, staying still till the maid was done. The maid approached Elizabeth to do the same.

After the two were properly dressed the part, they were led to help the pastry chef. Elizabeth volunteered to separate eggs- something she was very familiar with- whereas Drusilla was challenged with heating a sugar mixture, under the supervised eye of the chef. The pastry chef transformed their ingredients into a meringue, then a taffy-like sweet. Layered in roasted nuts, the confectionary had become a delectable nougat. The trays were brought into the pantry after Elizabeth and Drusilla had helped to spread them.

"Oh, our pastry must be done as well!" Drusilla suddenly quipped, being reminded having the time fly by. She rushed out to the pantry and returned with her bowl. Setting it down where they had previously been working, she beckoned for Elizabeth to come over as she dusted the counter space, then plopped the dough out and began to roll it out into a thin and round disc. "Would you like to have a go at it, lovey?" she asked, offering the pin to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth nodded and took it as Drusilla moved aside and watched her with care. "This is such fun. I have not helped make sweets since I was a young girl," she mused as she rolled out the dough.

Drusilla smiled at her, "It is, isn't it? I have not made pear tarts since my sister's birthday," she said with a little more resignation. "You've done well, Elizabeth," Drusilla stepped up beside her and patted her on the hand. Taking the pin, she carefully draped the dough over it and transferred it onto a baking sheet. She began to pour the pear mixture into the centre of the dough, "We could do this more often, if you like. Perhaps find a place to settle in for a while," she said without looking at Elizabeth. "I'm sure Angelus and William wouldn't mind," she glanced up at her and smiled.

Warming to the suggestion, Elizabeth smiled, "I would like that. Having travelled for so long, it would be nice to be in one place again." Especially if it meant that she and Angelus had more time to spend together. Maybe it would allow him more spare time for her, she thought.

"We'll find a place to call home, soon enough." Drusilla carried on as she looked back down at the tart and picked up the edges, folding them over the filling to create a rustic type of pleat, "You see what I'm doing, love? It is very simple. Would you like to try?" She moved aside again to let Elizabeth finish as she sucked off the pear juice from her fingertips.

Elizabeth moved forward and mimicked Drusilla's actions, "Like this?"

"Exactly like that, love," Drusilla cooed, resting her chin on Elizabeth's shoulder as she watched her work. "You've got such skilled little fingers," she commented. "Now, let's take this into the oven, shall we?" she beamed at her as she held one end of the pan, inviting her to hold the other. Elizabeth smiled as she took hold of it. Leading them forward, Drusilla placed the tart into the oven and shut the door. As she stood, she turned to Elizabeth and giggled, slipping her arm through hers and trotted back to the counter. "Shan't be long. Just another fifteen minutes," she noted.

Some of the other maids smiled at them as they rolled out some pastry dough. "If you don't mind, Mademoiselles, perhaps you'd like to help us as you wait for your galette?" the young maid called from her spot.

Drusilla glanced to Elizabeth before peering back at the girl, suddenly feeling more important and useful than when she had first tried using the kitchen, "You've become my lucky charm, granddaughter," she looked to her junior with mild fascination.

Elizabeth giggled, "It appears I have, grandmother."

This time, the two helped with folding small pieces of chocolate in pastry dough. They were a form of croissant of the region, though not made in the traditional horn shape.

Drusilla looked pleased as she completed her first roll and placed it onto the baking sheet. Getting another strip of dough, she placed it down in front of her and worked diligently, then glanced up at the young maid and Elizabeth, "You girls are behaving so well tonight," she smiled. "Make sure to wash up before supper or mummy will be cross," she said in a slightly warning tone. The maid looked to her and just smiled politely, not understanding what she was saying to her, but merely continued to work.

Elizabeth smiled and nodded gently at her grandsire. She was used to her dissociative babble, but there was something different in the weight of her words that Elizabeth found disconcerting. She dismissed it when she couldn't find likely reason with her uncertainty.

They had soon finished, but had yet to find out what their hard work would taste like; the dough needed to rise before being baked. Though, the maid had promised to have some sent over for tea when they were done.

Drusilla suddenly snapped up in realisation, "Oh, the tart, the tart!" she swiftly ran to the oven and pulled the baking sheet out with a towel and sighed with relief. Smiling, she placed the tray down on the counter as she prepared a honey and water glaze, "I hope it tastes as wonderful as it smells," Drusilla inhaled deeply as she began to brush the top over with the glaze.

The maid walked by and glanced at the tart, "That looks wonderful, Mademoiselle." She smiled as she looked between them, "We've just prepared dinner, will you be having some? We can just set the table and call you when it is ready."

"We will, thank you," Elizabeth replied after a moment of thought. Other than reading, she did not know how else to spend her time since Angelus had been busy as of late.

Drusilla set the pastry brush aside when she had finished with her glaze, looking quite pleased with the outcome of her dessert. Wiping her hands on her apron, she suddenly perked up and smiled, "He's home. He'll be in for such a treat," she giggled. "Come, granddaughter, let's go greet your daddy," Drusilla took Elizabeth by the hand, just as she had removed her apron. She pulled her out with her, leaving the maid startled as they left with abruptness.

With Elizabeth giggling behind her, Drusilla hummed as they trotted down the hall till they reached the vestibule.

┼†‡

Spike was quite anxious and happy with his little find. Feeling the little box that was snug safe and secure within his inner pocket, he pushed through the front door and was unexpectedly greeted by the sight of Drusilla smiling as she stepped forward in an apron. "Drusilla…," his eyes widened slightly as she moved forward to kiss him on the cheek.

"Welcome home, sweet William," she greeted him sweetly.

A pleasantly surprised expression swept over his face as he glanced down at her dress, "You look so… domestic," he looked back up at her and smiled.

"Do you not like it?" she frowned as she held an edge of the apron away from her body.

"No, no, no, that's not it at all. I-it's different, is all. I've just… never seen you in one before," Spike explained. "It's… quite nice, actually," he glanced down at it and slid his hand down from her waist over to the top of the apron.

Drusilla smiled, "I've been helpin' in the kitchen make sweets," she said proudly.

"I can tell," he inhaled her hair. "You smell good enough to eat," he teased, pulling her closer.

Drusilla began to giggle as Spike took her by the hand and suddenly began dancing around the vestibule. "Granddaughter helped as well," Drusilla said, glancing over her shoulder at Elizabeth.

Spike finally took notice of her, "Ah." He looked back to Drusilla as she continued to speak.

"We made a tart. Mummy's recipe. I do hope you enjoy pears."

"I'm sure it's lovely, pet," Spike smiled at her with affection. They continued to dance for a moment longer in silence as they simply stared at each other. It didn't take someone with functioning eyesight to witness the two lovers gazing at each other so tenderly. At that given moment, it was very endearing- if one wasn't aware of the heinous acts they had committed.

"Dinner is served, Mademoiselles," the maid announced, stepping out from the hallway.

Spike and Drusilla paused as they looked to her.

"Oh, Monsieur, I didn't realise you were joining them. I'll have a place set for you, too," she said, curtseying before leaving.

Spike looked to Drusilla, "Are we sitting down for dinner? We haven't done that since the Niçoise invited us in."

"Oh, it'll be wonderful," Drusilla touched him on the cheek, "just the three of us," she glanced to Elizabeth and smiled. "I want to help set the table," she pulled away, following after the maid.

"We'll be right there, love," Spike called after her. After ignoring her all this time, Spike finally turned to Elizabeth and pulled her aside, his happy expression melting into one of disappointment. "I know what's going on here, and you bloody well better stop it," he warned.

Up until that moment, Elizabeth had forgotten the ill will between her and her sire. Witnessing the level of affection her elders had for each other had even managed to quell the little envy she had for them. But presently, her sire was practically screaming bloody murder in her face. Her brows turned upwards in confusion and slight anger, "And what exactly is that?" she asked with an underlying edge to her voice. "As I see it, I have found a friend and a sister in Drusilla. I owe a lot to her. Almost as much as I owe you," she said calmly, stifling the simmering beneath her facade. "I've never had a sister, and I love and admire her as one. That is all."

"That's exactly _it,_ " Spike said between clenched teeth. "You might see her as a sister figure, but Drusilla sees you as something more. You're feeding into her delusions," he explained heatedly, lowering his voice as he took a step towards her.

Elizabeth listened in silence, only breaking her statuesque manner to tilt her head, "And you thought that I knew of this?" Elizabeth enjoyed the female company from Drusilla, and the warmth she thought she was missing, but she didn't know the exact extent of how Drusilla saw her. "I may be well read, but I am not as deductive as you think, I'm afraid," her eyes trailed up to his as he neared. She held his gaze.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it appears I've given you more credit than I should have," Spike widened his eyes in mock perplexion. "Allow me to take it back and adjust it accordingly to something that is more suited to you. I suppose you are dimmer than I thought you were; you're not even aware of the harm you're causing," he scoffed. "So, let me set things straight: yes, she does fancy you. Quite a bit, actually. So much so, it's frightening. I'm sure even you can tell with your lack of deductive skills, isn't that right?" Spike said, throwing her words back into her face. "But you see, _Elizabeth,_ what you may not be aware of, is that Drusilla takes family matters very seriously. Her family has always been important to her. And I'm not only talking about 'us' as a family," he placed his hand to his chest, "I'm talking about her _real_ family. Her dead family. And whatever it is that you have with her seems to remind her of it, to the point that she believes she can recreate that very thing she can't have."

As she listened, Elizabeth began to understand why it felt as though she and her fed off of each other's childishness at times: they both gave each other something they couldn't have- Elizabeth, a sense of fulfilment she had lacked in her former life, and with Drusilla, reminding her of one she had had in hers but no longer had. Elizabeth merely nodded, her expression unreadable. Her gaze finally broke from her sire's when she began to walk towards the dining room.

"We aren't quite done with this conversation," Spike sighed as he followed after her.

"William, granddaughter, where have you been?" Drusilla asked as she sat waiting at the dining table. "The food is getting cold." There was a setting placed at the head, and two adjacent to it. Drusilla sat at one of the sides.

Spike couldn't carry on with his thought as Drusilla looked to them, "We'll finish this after our meal, you hear?" he said from behind Elizabeth a little quietly, though he was aware that Drusilla could hear him.

Elizabeth's shoulders tensed. She turned her head just enough for him to see her face as she mouthed: "I know." Trying to relax her shoulders, Elizabeth turned back around and pulled her lips into a tired smile. She took a seat across from her grandsire.

"What's wrong, love?" Drusilla asked, flitting her eyes between her grand progeny and lover; she lifted her hand up as Spike took it.

"It's nothing, pet," Spike smiled at her, giving her hand a kiss before picking up the bowl and utensils at the head of the table and moving it next to Drusilla. He took a seat as he looked down at the bowl at what appeared to be some hearty stew. There were also slices of thick bread for them in the centre of the table. Spike didn't care to wait any longer as he reached for a piece of crusty bread and began to eat. He had to admit, the food there was really good, even though he disliked having to hide his true nature in that big household.

Drusilla scooped up chunks of meat and vegetables, only to let them fall from her spoon back into the bowl with an audible plop.

Observing the couple across from her from time to time, Elizabeth ate very little as she quietly sat with her thoughts.

Drusilla idly chatted about her day and the time she had spent with Elizabeth in the kitchen. "I've become a witch's apprentice tonight," she added as she looked to Spike.

Spike paused as he glanced to her, setting his spoon down into his bowl as he slightly canted his head, "Don't think he's a witch, love. He's a pastry chef from the sounds of it," he glanced over at Elizabeth before looking back to Drusilla.

"Mm… his cauldron did suspiciously resemble that of a large mixing bowl…," Drusilla said softly with mildly terse brows.

He smiled at her lovingly and continued to chew his food.

"I noticed you found 'A Christmas Carol'," Drusilla pressed the side of her head to his shoulder and peered up at him.

"'Course I did, love. Didn't want to leave you disappointed without the perfect Christmas," Spike left the spoon in his half-eaten bowl of stew and held Drusilla's hand.

The maids entered to clear their bowls, noticing the untouched food from the raven haired woman.

"Would you read from it tonight?" Drusilla asked with eagerness as she sat up to face him.

"If that's what you desire," Spike smiled.

Slices of Drusilla's tart were served to each of them just then with a small dollop of cream on the side. Drusilla turned to see a plate set in front of her as Spike picked up his fork.

"You made this, Dru? It looks marvellous," Spike said, genuinely impressed. He still reserved a bit of scepticism from the sweets she had prepared for Miss Corrine's tea party, but he did remember that her pudding was quite delicious. The portion of galette looked particularly scrumptious, and the smell of it was also very tantalising. He chewed on a small edge piece he had cut with his fork, "Oh…," he turned to looked at Drusilla with surprise, "this is bloody delicious," he started to smile.

"You think so?" Drusilla broke off a small piece with the prongs of her fork and smiled. "Ted helped," Drusilla glanced up and smiled across the table at Elizabeth.

Spike froze in mid-chew as he glanced to his lover, his expression falling back to quiet disappointment.

"Granddaughter was quite skilled in the kitchen, weren't you?" Drusilla beamed at her with pride.

Spike peered across the table at Elizabeth, his gaze filled with annoyance and disdain, "I'm sure she was."

At that name, Elizabeth knew something was wrong; she didn't mean for this to happen. She pushed back from the table, "I think I'll go for a walk. Enjoy the rest of your night," she said to them warmly, her smile only shrinking a small fraction.

"But you've hardly touched your tart," Drusilla frowned as she watched Elizabeth leave.

"Let her go, love," Spike tightened his hold on her hand, "if she wants to leave, that's her own choice," he peered up after his progeny, glad to see that she was at least smart enough to go when Drusilla's psychosis was starting to take a turn for the worse.

"Have I done something wrong?" Drusilla turned to Spike and frowned.

"No, nothing at all, pet," Spike reassured her, taking her hand within both of his as he kissed it, "you haven't done anything wrong in the slightest." He blamed Elizabeth. "If anything, she's probably gone off somewhere to bury her nose in a book," he rolled his eyes as he popped another tart morsel into his mouth.

"Speaking of books," Drusilla weaved her arms around Spike's right arm and pressed her chin against his shoulder, "could we start with reading a little early tonight?"

Spike scraped the crumbs off his plate, savouring those last bits as he pulled the fork clean from his mouth, "Of course. Whatever you wish," he smiled at her lovingly.

"Good. I'll let granddaughter know," she peeled herself away from him as she stood.

"Wait a minute," Spike stared up at her as she rose, "we never said anything about inviting Elizabeth," he said, rather appalled at thinking of having his progeny sit in on their storytelling.

"You said 'whatever I wish'. I wish for granddaughter to join us. Were you lying to me?" Drusilla pouted.

"I… I meant what I said, but I didn't extend the invitation to _her_ ," Spike retorted.

"But I want her there," she continued, her voice taking on the hint of a whine, "it's important we carry on these Christmas traditions!" she mewled, taking up her uneaten tart within her fist as it oozed out between her fingers.

Spike glanced down to her plate, then peered back up at her. Sighing, he waved his hands gently in defeat, "All right, love, we'll let her join us."

Drusilla released the tension in her hand, allowing the pieces of tart to fall back into the plate while its sticky juices still clung to her, "You'd do that for me, my sweet?" Drusilla smiled, lifting her dessert coated hand to his face.

Spike took ahold of her wrist, pausing briefly before letting his tongue drag out long and slowly across her open palm and fingers, "Anything for you, pet."

Drusilla giggled at that. She rose from her seat, "First we'll need a bath," she said, lacing her hands behind her back as she was about to pull at her apron strings.

"Um, no," Spike swiftly stood. He clutched at her hands and yanked her close towards his body, forcing her to stop and look up at him, "Let's keep that on for now," he smirked.

She stared up at him with wide eyes before she started to giggle again. Spinning out of his grasp, Drusilla rushed out and upstairs as Spike quickly pursued her. His chase ended in the bedroom after he slammed the door shut.

┼†‡

With the building tension, the youngest vampire had thought it best to spend the rest of the evening alone.

There was a moment when she had paused in front of Angelus' door when she went to fetch a book. It was enough that she had poured her concerns to him about Drusilla's strange behaviour during their bedtimes stories, but complaining to him would be too petty, she thought.

She had found her way into the garden where she currently sat, a spot lit by the moonlight. She let out a little sigh as she turned the pages of her book. With the way things were currently, she could not help but feel a sense of sadness. Her friendship with her sire was nonexistent; her bond with Drusilla was unhealthy; and the only true friend and companion was her love, Angelus- and even then, their relationship was a secret, even though she found it exciting.

With another sigh, Elizabeth placed the book aside and looked out to the horizon.

┼†‡

Drusilla and Spike had managed to pass some measurable time in bed, which they followed with a bath. As Drusilla soaked, Spike got out and dressed in a pair of clean trousers and shirt. Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure that Drusilla was still in the bath before he pulled out the concealed box from his inner coat pocket. It was small enough for him to clutch in his hand as he padded barefoot to Elizabeth's bedroom via the passageway. He looked around as he searched for a place to hide it.

┼†‡

After some time, Elizabeth walked back up to her room to find her sire there poking around. She slammed her door shut with a raised and unimpressed yet unsurprised brow.

"Jesus _bloody_ Christ, don't you knock!" he screeched at her, holding his hand to his unbeating heart; Elizabeth couldn't help but giggle at that. Though, under the given circumstances, Spike was the intruder. He shrugged his shoulders as he composed himself, continuing to peek around the nooks and crannies of her room like she wasn't there.

Elizabeth crossed her arms, "This is my room. Just what are you doing in here, anyway?"

"Well," Spike raised his brows as he let out a sigh and continued to look around, "Dru wants you to come and join us for a reading," he let out another sigh and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I'm not too happy about this arrangement, but, seeing as I'll be there, I'll make sure things don't go astray," he pointed at her.

"You speak as though I purposefully do things to her," she said with mild offense.

He rolled his eyes again at her response, "Maybe not purposefully, no. You ain't got the bollocks to do that, and you're too much of a _saint_ , ain't that right?" he sneered, turning around to face her as he raised his brows as though to challenge her. "But that's the thing, isn't it? You think you're doing good, spending time in her company, when you don't realise the harm you're actually causing. You heard what she called you tonight. Had you runnin' out like a dog with its tail between its legs. That's the kind of delusions you're feeding her." He let out another exasperated sigh as he glanced down, trying to calm himself down.

At this, Elizabeth clamped her mouth shut. There was nothing she could respond with because, aside from the mockery, it was true. All she wanted was to have a sister figure who willingly wanted to spend time with her and showed her sincere affection. Drusilla provided those things for her, but as it was clearly evident that night, Elizabeth's presence was detrimental to her grandsire's frail mind.

She stood idle and silent with a fist clenched at her side till her sire neared the bed. Brusquely walking over, she stood in front of it, almost as if she were guarding something.

Spike paused, "Hidin' something there, are we?" he raised a brow. "Huh, wonder what it could be…. Something… shameful?" he smiled at her darkly.

Elizabeth took a step backwards till her legs touched the bed, "Nothing of the sort," with crossed arms, she looked up at him with a bit of annoyance.

Spike's grin merely broadened the more she got defensive, "Wouldn't that be a sight to behold," he laughed. He walked around the bed as he peered downward at the dark space beneath it, now curious what it was that she was concealing. Maybe he'd poke around when she went out on her nightly prowls with Angelus, just to see what the fuss was all about.

Finding a vase in the corner of her room, he dumped out the dried flowers contained within it as Elizabeth watched him curiously from behind. He dropped the box inside before replacing the flowers. The sound of it clattering only cause Elizabeth's curiosity to grow.

He turned around to face Elizabeth, "All right, let's lay down some rules before you come jumpin' in," he let out a sigh. "I don't want you engaging in conversations. If she speaks to you, try to keep it at a minimum of short answers, preferably one word replies. You'll need to put her down gently, though. She won't be used to this sort of behaviour coming from you," he glanced to her as he folded his arms. God, he wasn't sure how this evening was going to turn out.

Elizabeth nodded with a sigh. It pained her to learn that she was harming Drusilla, but she agreed that their bond had to stop. "Any advice on how to do that?" she asked, not wanting to hurt her grandsire in the process.

"I don't know. Remind her to pay attention to the story. Use your beguiling charms. You've managed to do fine with her all this time. Funny how you're asking me for advice now," he scoffed. He let out one final sigh before turning back to the door, "I'm going to see how she is," he paused as he glanced over his shoulder at her. "Come when you're ready. I just know she won't want us to start without you there," he said grumpily.

Elizabeth nodded.

┼†‡

Slipping back into his room, Spike found Drusilla seated at the vanity in her chemise as she was brushing her hair.

She set down her brush and turned to him, "There you are, love," she smiled. She stood as she approached him, "Are we ready for 'A Christmas Carol'?" she asked, placing her hands in his.

"Just about," Spike replied, smiling tenderly at her, "I've just let Elizabeth know. I'm sure she's getting ready as we speak. In the meantime, let's get comfortable in our spots." Drusilla nodded as Spike led them to the bed.

They settled themselves down. Drusilla pulled the sheets comfortably over her lap as she held the book within her eager clutches and Spike turned the lantern on brighter. He retrieved his spectacles off the nightstand as he turned back around.

Drusilla snuggled in close against him and placed the book in his lap, "I'm so glad you were able to find this," she peered at him with large eyes, her voice soft.

He smiled at her as his hand brushed over her face before he kissed her tenderly on the forehead and lips. He hadn't actually found it. He was incredibly close to, but he would have to give the victory to Elizabeth. Again. But of course, he wouldn't let her know that. And for some noble reason, he knew that Elizabeth wouldn't claim proper rights either. He supposed he was lucky in that case.

The two glanced up at Elizabeth as she entered, Spike's expression more akin to being aloof, and Drusilla's brightening like a light. Elizabeth smiled at the pair as she approached the bed, now in her nightgown and her hair braided.

"Granddaughter, come," Drusilla beckoned with raised arms, making Spike shift over so that they could accommodate her more comfortably, "come take a seat right next to grandmother." She placed her arms lovingly around Elizabeth and pulled her head to her chest as she settled down with her. Drusilla brushed her hand over Elizabeth's hair, "You left so soon at supper, I was afraid I had done something to upset you," she frowned.

Elizabeth retained a small smile, though her eyes held a sadness she hid quite well, "Not at all," she replied quietly.

Spike looked to Elizabeth from his peripherals, glad that she had kept to her word. He sighed, then cleared his throat as he opened the cover of the book, "Shall we get started, then?" he asked, not looking at them.

Wrapping her hands around Spike's arm, Drusilla pressed her head against his shoulder and peered down at the open book.

Spike put on his spectacles and began to read. He was only used to reading to an audience of one- that being his mother- but Drusilla appreciated when he read to her. And as for Elizabeth, he didn't really care what she thought. Like with his poetry recitals, he was quite expressive, carrying a melodious cadence that his accent started to slip back to the one in his former life. He even had defined character voices for grumpy old Scrooge- one that Drusilla giggled at- and Scrooge's nephew- something that did not sound unlike his former persona.

Elizabeth listened intently, feeling as though she were actually present as she watched each scene unfold. As much as a grouch her sire was, she could admit that he was a good storyteller.

Having read halfway through the book, Spike paused to feel the weight of Drusilla pressing against him, "Drusilla, love, are you awake?" he asked gently, peeking down over her head.

She didn't respond.

Closing the book, he slowly shifted his body as he cradled her head and carefully lay her down on the pillow. Spike glanced at Elizabeth as her head lolled over onto Drusilla's side. Even though they had shared a bed for a couple weeks, he'd never really seen her sleeping. She actually looked peaceful, he mused.

With the change in placement, Elizabeth stirred awake and groggily pulled herself from their bed. She began to head to her own room.

Spike continued to pull the sheets over Drusilla's form, "Hey," he whispered to her, "remember, I'm only allowing this for this special occasion. I'm not going to allow Dru to visit you on any more 'bedtime stories', you hear?"

Before Elizabeth reached the door, she turned to her sire and nodded. She was too tired to care about the hurt that would simmer with his words when she was more clear headed. For now, she was just focused on the comforts her bed was greeting her with as she stumbled into her sheets, and allowed sleep to overcome her.


	35. Day 40: A Poison Tree

It was the evening of the party and Angelus was just finishing up on his attire. Finding everything on his person well-aligned, he walked out of his room with cane and hat in hand as he headed towards Elizabeth's door.

He knocked lightly with a raised knuckle, "Lizzy, I'll just be waiting in the parlour when you're ready," he called through the door. As he left down the hall, he passed by Spike and Drusilla's room and heard some soft mumbling from within. He paused to look at the door, then without another thought, descended downstairs to the parlour to find Maurizio also waiting there.

┼†‡

Elizabeth sat at her vanity table with her full skirt surrounding her legs and her hair immaculately curled. With it parted in the front, her temples were framed in soft waves that tucked back into a mass of a neatly piled updo, leaving delicate sprigs to hang down in front of her ears like suspended ornaments. And unlike her hairstyle for the last party, she retained some youthful vigour in this, allowing a couple of long curls to unravel from beneath her swept up hair to coil downward over her bare shoulder and past her arched collarbone. Save for the coils of her hair, her neckline lay free of jewellery, allowing a stark comparison of her ash brown hair against the lily and paling complexion of her naked skin.

Elizabeth did retain a small form of vanity, keeping to a pair of gold earrings. Fixed in the form of three-petalled flowers, three small sapphires- one intercepting each petal- were placed to allow for more colour and symmetry. A pearl was inlaid in the centre of each, and another was affixed below each gilded flower as they dangled below.

She giggled with excitement as she slipped on a pair of matching white gloves, imagining how her night with Angelus would be like.

Finally standing from her chair, she let out a nervous sigh and carefully readjusted her skirt before gingerly touching at her hair, ensuring that her curls were in place. Feeling satisfied, Elizabeth stepped out of her room and headed downstairs towards the parlour where she came upon the scene of not only Angelus, but Maurizio in his company.

She smiled nervously as she slowly stepped forward past the doorway, not wanting to disrupt their conversation.

As her presence was made aware, the two men both turned to look at her and stood. Angelus smiled, but Maurizio beamed.

"Lizzy, you look absolutely beautiful," Angelus said as he walked towards her.

"Elizabeth, you are… stunning," Maurizio was unable to keep his eyes off of her as he moved forward in a trancelike daze; Angelus glanced at him and smiled.

Elizabeth lowered her eyes bashfully as her cheeks flushed with colour, "Thank you, kind sirs, but all credit lies with the extremely talented dressmaker, Monsieur Jean-Baptiste Gautier," she raised her eyes back up to them with a matching timid smile.

"There's a time and place for humility," Angelus turned to Elizabeth, "and this is not it," he smiled as he offered her his arm.

Elizabeth met his gaze with a gracious smile as she lightly grasped his forearm. Often compared to a 'quiet mouse'- as her sire so put it- she was actually quite the opposite in Angelus' presence. She felt regarded as an equal and peer to him, despite him being her mentor. She believed that he listened to her opinions and thoughts with a keen interest, without judgement that she was so often met with. On the rare occasion, such as this, he left her speechless; there were no words she could respond with to his compliment.

"Shall we? We'll have some guests for you to dazzle tonight," he teased lightly.

┼†‡

On the way there, Angelus kept his cool throughout the ride, appropriately taking a seat next to Elizabeth, but keeping his arms to himself. He kept his gaze out the window or carried on with idle banter between the other two riders. Maurizio, on the other hand, could not help but steal glances across at the young woman before him. Whatever sort of bitter temperament he had had for her before presently did not seem apparent at all.

Once entering the de Beauvoir residence, they had their coats and hats checked before they were escorted to the dining hall where they were to be seated at a long table.

Maddelena stood from her seat, suddenly stopping from her conversation with some elder man, "Elizabeth!" she smiled, graciously lifting her arms out at her as Elizabeth approached. She clasped her hands, "Oh, my!" she kissed her on one cheek before moving to kiss the other. "The sight of you! Jean-Baptiste's work, isn't it?" she gasped, pulling back to admire her dress.

Elizabeth could not help but giggle at her reaction, "It is," she nodded.

Maddelena paused as she looked at her, frowning slightly as her bright expression dropped to a concerned frown, "I wasn't sure if you'd show tonight, considering you declined my invitation to tea."

"I do apologise for that, Maddelena, but nothing could keep me away from this lovely party," Elizabeth gave her friend's hand a gentle squeeze. "We should have tea soon should you forgive me," she said with a little giggle.

"Why, yes, of course!" Maddelena laughed, giving her a teasingly chastising look before pulling her down to the seat next to her. "Oh, dear," she breathed, pressing her cheek to a gloved fist, "I do have so much to tell you," there was a mischievous glint to her eyes and her white teeth gleamed between her upturned lips. She glanced across the room as she spotted Angelus speaking to her husband, "But not at the dinner table. After," she said quietly, her tone a little more serious.

Elizabeth gave her a small smile as she observed her face in brief, then nodded silently.

It was a progressive dinner of several courses, encompassing finer fare such as oysters, pate de foie gras, truffled capon, as well as several wines of red, white, and rose. The meal was finished with a dessert of chocolate.

Throughout this, Maddelena managed to uphold civil conversation, however, she kept guarded about what she wanted to discuss with her friend. Elizabeth could not help but feel a burning curiosity at what sorts of things Maddelena was hiding, having heard the suppressed thrill in her voice. The dinner was pleasant enough, but it felt much longer than it should have been.

When the plates were finally cleared, the hostess politely stood from her seat and linked her arm through Elizabeth's. As they slowly walked out the doorway, Maddelena glanced over her shoulder briefly before quickening her pace. She took off into a light trot with Elizabeth in tow and giggled the rest of the way into the parlour.

┼†‡

Plunking herself down on the sofa, Maddelena had a servant bring them some wine before turning to Elizabeth. She exhaled loudly, "Finally! We are alone!" she laughed. "My dear girl, what have you been up to this entire time? I feel like a lifetime has passed between us," she sipped at her wine and gazed at her over her glass.

Elizabeth sat comfortably by her side as she took a small sip of her drink, "It has been a while hasn't it?" she lowered her glass to her lap.

"I must say… there is something different about you. Like… you're an entirely different person," Maddelena mused.

Elizabeth brought her hand to her lips and laughed, "Oh? I don't see much of a difference," her smile shone.

"Hmm, there's certainly a noticeable change," Maddelena grinned as she clutched her glass by her chin. "Could it be…-" her eyes suddenly widened as she leaned forward and lowered her voice, "is it a man?" she searched her eyes for an answer.

For a split second, Elizabeth's own eyes widened in surprise. She didn't know what to say. The relationship she had with Angelus was still a secret, but she didn't want Maddelena mistaking her newfound happiness for feelings for Maurizio either. With a laugh, she shook her head. "No, I suppose I am just happy to have friends and a sense of belonging. I am feeling a bit more… lively these days," she said cheerfully.

Maddelena laughed lightly at that, "Really, is that all? Why, I've surely been mistaken; you have a glow about you. Only women in love have that unmistakable glow." She sipped at her wine, then turned her body as she rolled a shoulder upwards, "But, if you insist that it's nothing more, you'll have to share your secret." She gave a small giggle again and let out a soft sigh, "Now that we are alone, there is something I've absolutely been dying to share with you." She bit at her lip as she glanced around her to ensure that they were alone, then turning back around, she clasped her hand in Elizabeth's and squeezed, "Promise me this stays only between us. I've come to look as you as my confidant, now," her voice fell to just above a whisper as a soft smile lingered on her lips. A touch of genuine trust seeped through with her expressive brown eyes.

"I promise," Elizabeth replied with a coaxing smile. She set her wine down on the table before placing a cupped hand over Maddelena's and gently squeezed as a means of encouragement.

Maddelena let out another sigh as she glanced down to her lap, "I've… started an affair with someone," she said, unable to suppress her glee.

"An… affair? With whom? " Elizabeth asked, careful not to let any worry show through her voice. If her heart could beat, it would have been racing; she recalled Maddelena's admiring and flirtatious glances at Angelus. As she waited for her answer, Elizabeth's hand held onto Maddelena's gently, but her other remained concealed and clenched nervously at her side.

"Oh, he's tall, handsome, strong…," Maddelena sighed as she stared off dreamily into the distance, "a true gentleman of his kind."

As Elizabeth listened, her spirit fell more and more with each passing word.

Slipping her hand out from Elizabeth's grasp, Maddelena adjusted her orange silk gown as she crossed her legs, "But, oh," she moaned, leaning forward on her elbow and pressing her cheek into her cupped hand, "he's so incredibly passionate," she grinned as she looked into Elizabeth's eyes.

Elizabeth tried to calm her own nerves by reasoning that these details could have described any man. Having managed to uphold her facade for so long, Maddelena's carefree words had only chipped at the surface, but never succeeded at penetrating it. That was until she uttered her next sentence.

"He's actually someone we both know," Maddelena giggled, taking another sip of her wine.

Elizabeth could feel her wall begin to crumble; her fist tightened as she waited for Maddelena to proceed, not having the heart to encourage her with a word of speculation.

Maddelena leaned forward and whispered into her ear, "Angelus," she quickly covering her mouth as tinkering sounds of laughter peeled out.

Elizabeth's wall not only collapsed, it had been smashed into dust and rubble.

"Oh, I don't know why I'm telling you this," Maddelena smiled, glancing down as she traced one of the floral patterns of her dress. Her cheeks flushed with giddiness, excitement, and a touch of embarrassment, "I've never dreamt I'd ever do something like this," she touched her blushing cheek as she slightly shook her head.

Fighting the urge to cry, Elizabeth swallowed hard and forced a little smile, "Not to worry… your secret is safe with me." She stood, "E-excuse me."

Maddelena's smile soon faded, "Wait, Elizabeth, where are you going?" she asked in surprise.

There was little that Elizabeth heard after she slowly walked away.

Once out of Maddelena's sights, she quickened her pace as she threaded her way through the crowds of people. She gasped for air, even though what she was feeling wasn't a necessity of it. Half blind with bleary eyes, she searched around frantically for an escape and spotted a side door open to the garden; she ambled towards it and unintentionally knocked shoulders with other guests on her way out.

┼†‡

People turned to gasp and stare at Elizabeth as she pushed past them.

Angelus had been watching her from across the room since she had made her furtive dash from the parlour. He stood with Pierre and Maurizio in a group of their associates as they engaged in business matters. Assuming that she had left, Angelus made no attempt to chase her; he merely watched her as she slipped out. What they were discussing was far too important for him to just stop to attend to her precious feelings. Whatever it was, he'd deal with her later.

┼†‡

As Elizabeth approached a bench, her legs shook. It wasn't until she finally sank down on the cold slab of stone that she let her tears slip. She arched forward and hugged her arms as her body wracked with silent sobs and her thoughts swirled with questions, denial, and self-blame.

Could it be true? Maddelena didn't know anything about Elizabeth's and Angelus' relationship to even maliciously fabricate a story to elicit jealousy. But Angelus was such a respectable man. She could not fathom him doing such a thing, especially to a married lady such as Maddelena. Throughout all the nights he had mentored Elizabeth, she had been witness to his true character. Though the acts of killing men was brutal, he justified that it was her only means of survival. And to subdue her guilty conscience, her killing bad men was part of God's plan. Surely a gentleman who was willing to take tutelage over such a wide-eyed, inexperienced and naive girl, was reason enough to refute these notions against him.

Then that must have been the reason. There was no one else to blame but herself.

If Maddelena's claims were true, it only made sense that Angelus had chosen her. She was beautiful, a beauty that was incomparable. Elizabeth couldn't measure up to her at all. Maddelena had grace, charm, and a magnetism that could draw a man from a mile away. Elizabeth only drew what she could from her books and imagination; she could hardly attract a fly with honey.

Elizabeth's broken heart only sank into more despair as she entertained her thoughts. She tried to stifle her sobs when they broke into audible cries. Being kept in her home as a young woman made her feel like a caged bird, and now that she was free in her state to attend the parties she had begged to go to, she regretted it. The words of her father haunted her. Never had she agreed with him so much till now. She had no place there. Why had she come at all?

Wiping at her eyes to clear her vision, Elizabeth lifted her head. She pushed herself up from the bench and swayed on her unsteady feet; with the strength that she now possessed, she had never felt so weak. She forced herself forward, one halting step at a time, till she could walk with a normal gait, then took off to trot. When she had collected her bearings, she ran to where their carriage remained waiting.

She climbed in and slammed the door shut, "Take me back to the di Bazza manor," she ordered the driver.

┼†‡

As Elizabeth was being driven back, another carriage passed by her.

Spike peered out of the window as his eyes followed the passing carriage, catching a glimpse of a familiar silhouette in the caravan window, "Isn't that the dandy's carriage?" he asked out loud.

Drusilla had her arm wrapped around Spike's as she leaned forward and peeked out as well, "I don't see anything," she replied.

"That's because we've already passed it, love," Spike said, glancing down at her. He brushed her curls back over her shoulder as she nestled back into her seat, "We're gonna make a killing once we get there," he smirked.

"Perhaps I should have worn red," she pressed a gloved hand to her black laced bodice and scrunched her other hand against the green of her skirt, "would be a better colour to hide the stains."

"Doesn't matter," Spike kissed her forehead, "we can dance around naked after if you're concerned about getting your gown dirty."

Drusilla giggled and leaned her head against his shoulder.

┼†‡

Once they arrived at the de Beauvoir estate, they were quick to throw the doorman aside as they passed through the entrance without their proper invitation.

"Look how… lively it is," Drusilla's eyes widened in wonderment as she gazed around her.

"It is a Christmas party after all," Spike commented, shuffling through. He was quick to grab a couple of fluted wine glasses as a server passed by with a serving tray. Occasionally sipping at the red wine, he observed the French aristocrats chirp and bubble around them.

Angelus lifted his gaze to find his two progenies in the midst of the crowd. This time, he made an effort to move. "What are you doing here, William?" he asked as he approached.

Spike glanced back at his sire nonchalantly, "Drinking. And mingling," he replied simply enough, indicating with a slight raise to his glass as he sipped at it.

"You weren't invited."

"You really think that'd stop the likes of us?" Spike scoffed. "Clearly you don't know us then, mate. We've already been invited once before, so a piece of card ain't likely to keep us out," he said matter-of-factly.

Drusilla smiled and giggled at Angelus as she saw the disappointment on his face, "Not pleased at all, at all, are you, Daddy?" she pressed a gloved hand to her face and shook her head slowly.

Angelus turned to Drusilla and sighed, "No, not really, Drusilla," he agreed. "The two of you behave," he instructed, looking between them, "I still haven't quite settled matters yet. I'll be damned if you have t'ings spoilt for me now. Is t'at clear?" he looked to Spike more specifically.

"Bloody hell, I've never seen you so serious before, Angelus," Spike's eyes widened at him, "this really must be important to you."

"It is. Now, behave," Angelus repeated before he walked away.

Spike watched him as he left, "This'll just be more entertaining to watch things fall into place," he said with mild amusement.

Drusilla hugged and tugged on his arm, "Dance with me?"

"'Course," Spike smiled as he turned to her.

They slipped off to the dance floor.

┼†‡

Meanwhile, Angelus made a hasty return to his host's home, considering the unlikely timing of his progenies' party crashing. If they hadn't arrived, he'd have delayed checking in on Elizabeth till the party was over.

He sighed as he entered the manor and headed upstairs towards her bedroom. Hearing the muffled sounds of soft crying from inside, his assumptions of where she was had been right. "Elizabeth?" he rapped on the door. "It's me, Angelus."

┼†‡

Elizabeth lay on her side with a pillow clutched to her chest as tears streamed down her face. Once the carriage had arrived at the manor, she had gone straight to bed with no plans of leaving it. However, the sound of Angelus' voice had managed to reignite some life in her dim eyes, but also reminded her of the hurt that currently numbed her.

"Come in," she whispered weakly, her voice strained from all the crying. It was not an invitation out of courtesy, but a response out of familiarity. Elizabeth shifted from her position, finally moving from her spot since she had lain fetally in her unrest, and heaved herself upright in a sitting position as she fanned her skirt around her. She brushed at her wet cheeks, only to have thin rivulets splinter downward anew. She was aware of the poor state she was in, but there was little she could do in the short time she was given and the lack of a reflection. Still, though her pins were loosened, her hair remained in place.

Angelus cautiously opened the door and walked through. Approaching the bed, he could see the apparent flush and tears staining Elizabeth's cheeks. "I noticed you were gone at the party. What happened? What's upset you so much to make you leave in such haste and bring you to tears?" he asked gently, sitting down next to her as he brought a hand to her face.

As much as she loved him, Elizabeth's eyes were trained to her lap; she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. But as hard as she tried, she could not hide her true feelings as she yielded to his touch. With her brows upturned in her sadness, she nuzzled her cheek into his palm, "In the parlour… Maddelena, she told me she was… having an affair," she managed to contain a calm demeanour before her voice began to waver, "with you." Fresh tears slipped down her face to her gown. Betrayed. She had promised to keep Maddelena's secret as confidante and betrayed her trust; she, herself had experienced betrayal from Angelus, having learnt about their alleged affair; and above all, she betrayed herself, believing that by voicing this to him, he would tell her that it wasn't true.

"And do you believe her?" he asked quietly, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb; Elizabeth remained silent. "I'll be honest, I have been spending more time at her home, but it isn't to see her. You've overheard me and Maurizio discussing business matters before, and it has a lot to do with Pierre's participation. I try my best to win him over, and while I'm there, I am courteous enough to pay attention to Maddelena. I can see why she'd mistake the times I see her there as something she'd consider an affair, but it is nothing more than a terrible misunderstanding," he explained. "I'll clear things up with her the next time I see her. I cannot have her believing something like that when I'm doing business with her husband. He'd never agree to me having anything to do with a partnership after that if he catches wind of such rumours," he smiled lightly, adding a little humour to his words to lessen the tension. "Please, Elizabeth, trust me when I tell you, there is nothing between her and I," he said gently.

Elizabeth listened quietly then slowly raised her gaze. When her eyes met his, she knew in her heart that he was being genuine. "Angelus… I am so sorry I was being so quick to judge. I have seen the way how Maddelena looks at you… and she is such a refined and lovely woman…," she trailed off and lowered her eyes.

Angelus smiled at her, "She may be," he touched her chin and gently tilted her face upwards; Elizabeth fluttered her eyelids and looked back up at him, "but she's not you." With gentle strokes, he caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers before lowering his face and kissing her tenderly on the lips.

Elizabeth began to relax into his kiss as she felt the tension and worry leave her shoulders. With his hand firmly placed at the side of her waist, she felt anchored and safe; if he wasn't holding her securely in place, she would have swooned. She smiled at him as their lips parted, "I believe you," she said, reinstating her faith in him. Her cheeks flushed for a different reason altogether, "I… I love you, Angelus," she whispered.

A slow smile crept across his face like ink on blotting paper, "I didn't know I had captured your heart," he said softly from above her lips, "this makes me happy." Snaking his hand around to her lower back, he pressed her closer to him as he kissed her again. "Come back to the party with me," his hand remained cupped to her face as he pulled away, "it's not the same without you. I don't want you leaving it on such a sour note." He grinned as he traced a finger over the material of her gown, "And you haven't nearly shown this dress off enough to make the other women jealous. What do you say?"

Having her fears comforted and her tears dried, Elizabeth smiled and nodded, "I say yes," she said with a soft laugh.

┼†‡

Angelus had been gone for just a little over an hour, but he returned with Elizabeth pressed to his side to a more lively party. "I'll need to exchange a couple more words with the man of the house," he glanced to Elizabeth. "Will you be all right? I promise you, I'll find you as soon as it is over."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded up at him.

Letting his hand linger in hers, Angelus stood by her briefly before slipping off into the crowd to disappear into another room.

┼†‡

Without the attendance of their sire breathing down their necks, Spike and Drusilla were dancing up a storm. Their antics, however, didn't pass off as something ill mannered this time, seeing as everyone was in higher holiday spirits- or perhaps were just coasting along with too much drink.

"I'm thirsty," Drusilla sighed, pulling away to the side of the dance floor.

"More wine, love?" Spike asked, escorting her with his hand.

"I want the reddest of the red kind," she pouted.

"Why don't you poke around the kitchen? I'm sure with the size of their staff, one miserable soul won't be missed."

"But Daddy said to behave," she continued, looking to him with large eyes.

"Who's to say you aren't? I won't tell," he smiled, coming close to kiss her on the forehead.

She smiled at him as she pressed a finger to her lips, "Shh, it's our little secret," she giggled. She slipped away as she took one last glance over her shoulder at him, then disappeared from his sights.

Spike watched merrily as she walked away, then continued to track down another waiter for more wine. After procuring another glass- which he believed he'd drank an entire bottle by himself already- he caught sight of a bloom of white.

┼†‡

Once Angelus was out of Elizabeth's line of vision, she stood out in her white and gold gown amongst the other guests, idle and unsure of what to do. After the little incident from earlier, she did not want to see Maddelena- and she was her only friend at the party. She clasped her hands together, feeling strange that she no longer had Angelus' arm to buffer her. In her uncertainty, someone brushed by her, causing her to jerk her head upward as she quietly apologised. Glancing around, she felt like it would be best if she got out of the way of everyone else.

"What an entrance you make," came a familiar taunting voice.

Elizabeth snapped her head around to see her sire approaching.

Spike sneered. She looked a little lost, he thought.

Lowering her eyes, Elizabeth could not help the small smile that touched her lips. As usual, when he was present, his actions were unpredictable; she did not know if he was a friend, mentor, or enemy at that moment, she just hoped that he wasn't there to torment her.

"Thank you," she said softly as she looked up at him. Even though Angelus had put her at ease, she was in no mood for banter. She hoped that he did not find her just to make fun of her like the last party they had attended.

"What? Don't I get a larger reception than that? Aren't you a bit glad to see me here?" Spike asked in mock surprise, pressing a hand to his chest. "No? Well, should have seen me earlier. We made quite a splash on the dance floor," he said before downing the rest of his drink. "Dru's here, too, of course," he wiped at his mouth before flagging down another waiter for a refill. "And no, it's not what you're thinking," he turned to her with his new glass in hand, "not 'that' sort of splash. Not yet, at least."

Elizabeth sighed.

Spike peered around them as other people laughed and walked by, "You're really pressing boundaries here, living the fast and edgy of the party life," he quipped, obviously sarcastically. "Must be thrilling to be standing alone amongst the crowd of socialites. Brings back fond memories, doesn't it?" he laughed.

Looking up at him, she shook her head, "Not really, no. When I attended Christmas parties, I was kept to reading to children. I never went to other parties." She turned her gaze to the crowd in a sweeping glance, "It is interesting to watch people, though."

"'Course. The life of the pristine and sheltered girl," Spike nodded. "How unfortunate, you'd have been the life of 'em," he carried on with his sarcasm, finding it too easy how she was setting him up. He didn't like the atmosphere of the parties he attended, but he made sure to uphold an image and to extend civilities to the others that had invited him. Though, if he had a choice to decline those offers, he'd have surely just stayed home with his mother.

"My… William, is that… you?" a man's voice called out, culling him out of reverie.

Spike didn't mean to, but he turned as an automatic response.

A well dressed man with trim sideburns approached. His dark and slicked back hair was parted to match the uniformity of his pressed suit. On his arm was a young woman, fitted in a gown of white taffeta with decorated flowers and leaves.

"Oh, my God! It _is_ you!" the man cried in shock as he smiled.

This was something Spike did not expect at all to ever happen. To have a part of his past suddenly surprise and visit him like it did just then. And to think at a random party and in _Nice_ out of all places. He'd been running the streets of London for a good number of nights, and had never had that problem. What were the odds? he thought.

"No, no… you've mistaken me for someone else," Spike mumbled, turning away slightly as he sipped at his wine.

Elizabeth glanced between the two men as the scene unfolded. Then it dawned on her what was happening. She could not help but grin as she took pleasure in her sire's discomfort.

The man laughed and peered at him more closely, "William Pratt! When did you get a sense of humour! I almost didn't recognise you without the spectacles. And well…," he glanced over Spike's state of dress, a little more lax than what was to be expected at formal parties, "your stature."

Spike did carry himself differently now because he simply didn't care. Compared to the man before, William hovered around like a nervous insect, caving into himself that made him appear smaller, possibly so he wouldn't stand out so much, and unconsciously making himself invisible. Spike sighed as he finally looked at the man, resigning to his acknowledgement.

The woman on the man's arm glanced at the men's exchange, allowing them to speak as she smiled. Glancing to the woman dressed in white and gold, she blinked as she observed her face, "Elizabeth…? Elizabeth Lorn?" she asked softly and cautiously.

Still smiling, Elizabeth turned to her and froze. Her smile waned.

"Do you also know this woman, dear?" the man turned to glance at his paramour.

"My goodness," she gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand, "you're alive!" her blue eyes widened in surprise.

Spike looked between the couple, then to Elizabeth, "You've got to be bloody kidding me," he mumbled under his breath. This was too unlikely a chance for the both of them to be spotted by members of their former circles.

In her given circumstances, this was not the sort of recognition Elizabeth wanted, especially now. She greatly considered speaking German as a diversion. On the other hand, someone who knew her would have been aware she spoke other languages, and that she was waiting for her acceptance to the abbey. There was no way of passing herself off as a travelling nun in her current state. Still, Elizabeth had to try something; it was better than doing nothing.

"Do you recognise me? It's Flossie, Flossie Fairbairn," the young woman said, smiling with delight.

Elizabeth drew in a breath, then scrunched up her face with confusion, "Excusez-moi?" she said in her best French accent. She hoped to the heavens she looked and sounded different enough to throw her off.

Her friend looked back to her in surprise.

Spike suppressed the urge to snort. He had seen her grinning when he was being picked out from the crowd, but now that she was in the same situation, he'd return the favour of being haughty. "Oh, you know _Liz_ , always one to show off her superior French skills," he grinned, waving his brows at his progeny. If he was going to get humiliated by the likes of this man, he would take her down with him.

Elizabeth darted her eyes at her sire with a glare before sighing and turning to her friend with a forced smile, "We are in France, are we not?"

"O-oh!" Flossie glanced between them, her look of surprise turning back into a smile, then laughter. "Is this some sort of game?" she asked, curiously looking between the two.

Spike glanced back to Elizabeth as he grinned, "'Course, love. It's a game," he said, looking back to the other young woman.

"I've never been so keen with my French," Flossie laughed. "I believe we shared the same tutor, Elizabeth. He often compared me to the likes of his favourite student," she teased. "Not in a good way, of course, because Elizabeth here had an ear for these sorts of things."

"You're being far too kind, Flossie," Elizabeth said. "French was just a language I happened to take an interest in. I studied more of it in my spare time than what was allotted for our tutor sessions. A curiosity and studious habit is the real reason, is all."

She was only using a euphemism for calling herself a bookworm, Spike thought as he rolled his eyes.

"I dare say, these are rather strange and unusual circumstances to have us all brought together here," the man said.

"I couldn't agree with you more," Spike sighed.

"Do forgive me," the man extended his hand to Elizabeth as she placed hers in his, "I am Edgar Midgley." He looked to Spike, "And this is William Pratt," he continued as he turned to glance at Flossie. "William, as you've heard, this is Flossie Fairbairn. Well, for the time being anyway," he glanced back at the woman on his arm and smiled at her as she took to giggling bashfully, "we're engaged."

Elizabeth raised her brows in surprise and smiled, "Congratulations Flossie!" she said, genuinely happy for her friend.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," Flossie giggled, looking back to Edgar with a smitten smile. "How queer that you two should be acquainted with one another," she turned back to them, "it was by some twist of fate that my dear Edgar and I crossed paths. If you didn't already know each other, you'd have met at our wedding," she smiled, laughing lightly again.

"Ah… that would surely have been a bizarre string of occurrences…," Spike agreed. It seemed even in his living life, he wouldn't be able to escape Elizabeth's annoyances. God, how unlucky he was, he thought.

Flossie turned back to her friend as her expression grew more serious, "Though, there has been several rumours floating around since your disappearance, Elizabeth."

At this, Elizabeth's curiosity was piqued, and a bit fearfully, "Oh…?" she swallowed nervously but continued to carry a smile.

"The most gruesome one being that you'd been involved with a kidnapping that had occurred similarly several months before, and that you had been… murdered," Flossie said, lowering her voice.

The truth was, she had become a vampire. Of course, no one would have fathomed a theory like that with her suddenly vanishing. A murder, no matter how gruesome, was the most logical, most sound explanation. Elizabeth lowered her eyes as she found herself getting lost in her thoughts. Was this what her family believed…? She might not have been really dead or truly alive, but whatever she was, she was still flesh and blood. Yet at that moment, she felt like nothing more than a ghost.

Spike snorted. The kidnappings Flossie had mentioned was the Whirlwind's doing. During that time, he'd been made a 'victim' himself, as well as being inducted as a new member. Though what Flossie had said about Elizabeth's circumstances wasn't too far off. He had meant to kill her….

"Is something funny, William?" Edgar glanced to him, looking a little disdainful at his rude behaviour.

"Ah, no, no, not at all," Spike smiled gleefully, recovering from his lapse. "Not to worry, love, as you can see, she's the spitting image of radiant health," he gave a little nod towards Flossie, then smirked at Elizabeth. "Aren't dead at all, are we, Elizabeth?" he grinned.

Spike's form of mockery was enough to snap Elizabeth out of her fog as she raised her head and stared back at him, "Not at all, _William,_ " she replied with a little snide tone to her voice.

"Why, yes, of course," Flossie continued, waving her hand as though she were dispelling the notion having mentioned those words, "it was an awful thought to have even entertained. Your mother and father have been beside themselves."

Elizabeth's brows lightly turned upwards as she lifted her eyes to hers, "They have…?" she said in an inaudible whisper.

"We all believed that maybe you'd tired of waiting for the convent's acceptance and had run off to another abbey. But to see you here and dressed like this…," Flossie beamed as she admired Elizabeth's dress. "This is not something a nun-in-training would take to wearing," she teased.

"No, she's not a nun at all, now," Spike agreed.

"I'm so glad to hear that!" Flossie replied. "To think you would have been spending your days away in seclusion and without a husband. We all thought your decision to do that was ludicrous," the pitch of her voice grew higher in emphasis.

"Yes, _ludicrous_ ," Spike repeated, looking to Elizabeth; he was enjoying himself far too much.

"But, it's so lovely to see you now," Flossie smiled. She glanced between Spike and Elizabeth once more, a little curiously now as her expression shifted to a suspicious smile, "How is it that you two are here… together…? You seem so comfortably acquainted with one another." Suddenly her eyes widened and her back straightened, "I'd heard rumours about this, too, but I'd never imagined that they were real," she gasped.

Spike looked to the chatty woman with a quirked brow.

"Rumours? Of what?" Elizabeth inquired, her voice gaining little strength.

"Mr. Pratt and Elizabeth, you've ran off together to elope!"

Spike fumbled with his glass as it nearly slipped from his grasp, causing half of its contents to spill out over his hands. If he had been drinking as Flossie had reportedly blurted out her utterly wrong suspicion, he'd have gagged or been spraying out a sea of red. "NO!" he rebuffed, flicking one of his hands free of wine.

Elizabeth was utterly speechless as she gaped at her friend.

"I'm sorry," Flossie lowered her voice as she leaned in a bit, "are we keeping this 'hush, hush'? Was that the purpose of the game?"

" _No_ ," Spike sighed, giving the dimwitted woman a dark look, "we did not _elope_ ," he said harshly, making sure to emphasise the word so that she could understand.

"So," she paused, "you haven't yet married?"

"We aren't engaged!" Spike retorted, fighting the urge to smack his palm to his face out of frustration.

"Certainly not!" Elizabeth was quick to add with a nervous laugh, slightly repulsed by the very idea of it.

"Now, see here, William, no need to get overly vexed over a misunderstanding," Edgar peered at him with displeasure, not liking how he was speaking to his fiancee. "Apologies to you both if you are not romantically involved, but how is it that you two know each other?" he inquired.

Spike started to chuckle at Edgar's question. How did they know each other? That was a darkly funny story they wouldn't be at all prepared to hear. "I, uh, I had decided to head on out for some supper," Spike grinned, fighting the urge to laugh some more, "you know, one of those late night hunger pangs. I had stepped out, hoping to satiate it, and we-" he glanced to Elizabeth and grinned, "we sort of 'bumped' into each other."

"You mean you shared a meal together?" Edgar asked.

"How romantic," Flossie cooed, finding the story enchanting.

"No, no, there was no 'sharing' of any meals," Spike was quick to correct them. "And there was especially nothing 'romantic' about it, either," he pointed that out to Flossie.

She stared at him, a little perplexed.

"Well, I had… my fill," Spike continued, "and she- well, she was feeling a little… lethargic. She could hardly move," a grin stretched out across his face again.

"Oh… what an… unusual way of meeting," Flossie commented, glancing between the two. She still found the idea of meeting upon happenstance rather romantic, but thought better to mention it to the hardheaded man.

Elizabeth looked to Flossie, unable to imagine what she might have gotten from her sire's telling of the story. Though her face was calm, it was a little offset from the way she was digging her nails into her palm as she clenched her fist. "Unexpected, to say the least," she said, trying to unlock her jaw as she shot another quick glare at her sire.

The more Elizabeth glared, the more Spike grinned.

The engaged couple looked between the two, unsure where the other pair now stood. Initially assuming they had some history of familiarity and romance now took on something that was less believable as the atmosphere between them was more apparent to some form of tension and hostility.

Elizabeth changed direction, "So, engaged? Flossie, that must be so exciting," she smiled as if she hadn't been seething with embarrassment and anger just moments before.

"Oh, it is!" Flossie beamed, quickly forgetting whatever bad air that had just been stirred up. "We're planning a spring wedding," she said, turning to glance lovingly at Edgar. "I was planning to ask you if you'd wish to be one of my bridesmaids before you were sent off to the convent, but since your… disappearance, I had to replace your spot with Petunia," she said, frowning a bit. "But now, it seems as though neither things are of issue," she smiled. "Would you like to be one of my bridesmaids, Elizabeth? I can easily have her replaced. I was never really that fond of her; she was my last resort," she confessed.

The more Flossie spoke, the more Elizabeth felt like a ghost. "Unfortunately, I may still be travelling. It is a voyage of… self discovery," Elizabeth smiled at her, but it was bittersweet. "Petunia would be honoured."

"Oh, I see…," Flossie's smile dimmed, "I am just glad you've had time to reevaluate your decision on entering the church."

"Would you excuse me?" Elizabeth said suddenly.

Unexpected with her response, Flossie looked a little startled, "Of course."

With a kind smile, Elizabeth glanced out into the crowd before walking away.

The three stood behind as they watched her go.

┼†‡

Elizabeth sighed out of relief as she distanced herself from them. With her past revisiting her- in person and in thought- she needed a moment to be by herself.

She stepped out onto the veranda for some air and breathed.

Was it cruel to decline her friend's offer? she wondered. She placed her hand onto the guardrail as she stared out at the night sky. She knew deep down that it would be better for everyone if she remained gone. If her family caught wind of her whereabouts, it would only cause them more pain knowing that she would never return to them. Existing as she was, she could not divulge in her own selfishness, no matter how much she missed them. If they ever learned what she had become, what she was… she didn't want them to needlessly suffer. For once, they were blessed with ignorance; this was a burden she would carry alone and would have to overcome by herself. She had to let them go.

┼†‡

Typical, Spike thought, finishing his drink. He waved down a waiter for another glass.

Flossie glanced up at Edgar with wide eyes as she whispered to him, "We've hardly even started with being reacquainted," her words were low, only meant to be heard by him, "I wouldn't know why she was so abrupt to leave. Does she find my happiness offensive?" she said, a little hurt by her friend's sudden departure.

"Perhaps she needed some air, Flossie dear. It does get a little stuffy at parties such as these," Edgar said quietly. "She may return and continue to converse with us later on if she so chooses to."

Spike peeked at them from the corner of his eye as a server brought him another drink, "So, how is it you know Elizabeth?" he asked Flossie.

They turned to glance at him, a little surprised that he was still there and hadn't followed her.

"Our mothers," Flossie smiled politely, taking a glass of wine from the server that offered it to them, "they often arranged afternoon teas. Sometimes we'd visit each other's homes as children, but as we got older, we were allowed to attend tea as well."

"Oh, childhood friends," Spike quipped, raising his brows expressively.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that," Flossie replied politely.

Spike smiled, wondering what sorts of information she'd divulge about her. It would be funny for him to learn things about his progeny and use it against her when she least expected it. "Any tantalising secrets you'd bother sharing? What sorts of mischief were you two involved in as girls, hmm?" Spike grinned, waving his brows at her.

"Excuse me, William, but I do believe your line of questioning has gone out of hand," Edgar said disapprovingly. "These are ladies here, not rambunctious and feral rascals."

"Oh, come here, _Edgar_ , you think all girls were raised to be as uptight as you? You'd learn a little more that even the most beauteous lady has a heart for a little thrill and adventure," he smiled charmingly at Flossie, "isn't that right, love?"

"How dare you-" Edgar began.

Flossie giggled as she covered her mouth, "No, it is quite all right, Edgar," she touched his arm to reassure him, "you might be surprised to learn that as children, we did get into some sort of fun when we were left to our own devices."

Edgar's eyes widened at that.

"Pray tell, Flossie dear," Spike said, using Edgar's own term of endearment as a slight jab at his expense; he smiled at her with interest.

"Well… Elizabeth had a rather charming and flamboyant imagination as a girl," she began, "she had managed to convince me on several occasions to play make-believe with her. And not just the sort with dolls and tea, rather… she used us as characters. As though we were in a play."

"'Course she did," Spike added, familiar with her affinity to the performing arts.

"It'd always been relatively tame- indoors or in the garden- but she had the lofty notion of dressing us in her mother's and brother's clothes on one occasion. I-I've never worn men's clothing before," she was quick to correct herself, "but Lizzy didn't seem to mind so much. We were playing by the lakeside, and with the soil there being a little slippery, I ended up falling into the lake," she smiled before she covered her mouth to cover her giggles.

"That's absolutely horrible!" Edgar cried, looking to her in concern.

"I was perfectly fine," she patted him over the hand to calm his nerves, "but, Elizabeth," she laughed again, "she dove right in after me."

"An unsung heroine," Spike commented.

"What a poorly raised girl she must have been!" Edgar carried on. "To think she had you in harm's way," he turned to her and clasped her hands.

"Well, we had a couple of manservants fish us out soon enough. I was in tears, mostly having swallowed mouthfuls of lake water, but from what I recall, Elizabeth was in tears because she was told she wasn't allowed to dress like that," she smiled, letting out a little sigh as she reminisced. "We were separated mostly after that incident-"

"As you should have."

"...but when we did get together, we were usually accompanied by a maid, just to oversee us. I suppose since then, we'd grown more distant. She usually was one to take to herself more often, whether it was reading books or running around dressed as a fairy."

"Or putting on plays alone in her bedroom," Spike added.

"Oh, did she do that?" Flossie looked to him in surprise. "I wasn't aware."

"You should see her when she's performing Romeo's sword fight," he raised his brows.

"That must have been… a sight to behold," she commented with a little bit of wonder. Her thoughts now went back to wondering whether this man and her friend were actually more intimate than they let on. How else could he have learnt that about her that no one else knew?

Elizabeth stepped through the scatter of idle socialites as she returned to her friends, catching the last half of the conversation with the lake incident. She smiled at Flossie with a fondness as she recalled her childhood, a simpler time when she was less governed by the words of her parents and how a lady should behave in the eyes of the public.

The couple turned to her as she moved forward; Spike, merely offered a side glance.

"Elizabeth, I'm so glad you've rejoined us," Flossie smiled kindly at her friend, though her fiance's expression wasn't so much pleased. Edgar kept any unnecessary comments to himself.

"Yes, we're learning _so_ much more about the high jinks you had as girls," Spike grinned.

Elizabeth placed a hand to her cheek as she blushed, "Goodness, I was a little wildling as a girl, wasn't I?" she laughed.

"I suppose you were. It made sense when Mother had our visitations dwindle down so drastically. I suppose she didn't want you spoiling me with your devious nature," Flossie teased.

Spike snorted, causing the couple to turn their heads in his direction, "Her, 'devious'? Not likely."

"She has blossomed into quite the lady now, hasn't she? Not a strand of hair out of place. And that dress," Flossie admired it once more.

"How old were we, Flossie? Five?" Elizabeth ignored her sire's remark, though she did dart him a look from the corner of her eye.

"Were we?" Flossie turned to Elizabeth at her question. "I'm not sure at all. I cannot believe it has been so long," she sighed. "To think we were once children, dreaming about what it would be like to have a husband of our own," she turned as she smiled up at Edgar, "and now, to be engaged."

"Humour us with another tale?" Spike suggested, inwardly vomiting at their display of affections. "Considering your long history, I'm sure you have many."

"We do have a few memorable ones, but perhaps they aren't so suitable to share," she smiled, glancing to Elizabeth.

"Why don't you share one, _Lizzy,_ it might help to ease Flossie's bashful nerves if you're willing to give it a go," Spike said, turning to his progeny. He honestly wasn't sure she'd be willing to. It was a little disappointing for him that she had returned so soon, or he'd have gotten more out of the willing friend of hers.

Turning to her sire, Elizabeth raised an arched brow, "My _brother_ was the only one who called me by that nickname."

Spike fluttered his lashes at her in mock perplexion.

"Now, if anyone was wild as a child, it was him. My, he would torment me endlessly," Elizabeth laughed as she shook her head. "I never did much about it, except… that one little incident," she giggled and glanced down before peering back up at expecting faces, including her sire's. "I got my revenge, just once. He was napping before supper, so I snuck into his room and drew on his face with ink. It took him a day and a half to wash it all off," she laughed as she recalled her brother screaming when he saw his reflection. It was well worth the scolding and punishment she had received.

"I didn't know you to act so out of spite," Spike commented, looking to her in surprise. "That's rather uncomely of you." Though, she did aggressively fight him in Notre-Dame. But given the circumstances, that was an entirely different thing. With this, she had actively sought out her own piece of vengeance on her brother. It might have been a little juvenile and had no real foul play involved, but it did display some form of vindictiveness, something a nun-in-training shouldn't have been harbouring.

"Oh, how news of that travelled fast," Flossie giggled. "I remember, the next day at church, his face had been completely pink, having been rubbed raw."

"I'd have loved to have seen that," Spike grinned, giggling a bit himself. It was pretty evident how much he disliked the man.

"He might have been devilish as a boy, but he did grow up to be a fine man," Flossie commented, a dreamy look washing over her eyes. "And to think, he used to tease me as a girl, too. I'd always thought he was quite handsome, despite that."

"You fancied him?" Edgar looked to his fiancee, a little hurt by her admission.

"A lot of girls did, Edgar dear, not just me," she replied, running a hand over his soothingly, "but I hear his bachelor days are over. He's engaged now."

"He is?" Elizabeth's smile was barely present as her true feelings threatened to make an appearance. The look of mirth in her eyes had been replaced with slightly upturned brows, "To Lucy?" her tone was soft.

Flossie's eyes widened as she blinked at her, "Yes, of course. Oh… I do apologise," she frowned, "their engagement was just announced shortly after ours. It was during your… absence." She glanced up at Edgar, feeling a little embarrassed for having mentioned some of Elizabeth's personal family affairs that she herself was not even aware of.

Elizabeth nodded with a small smile, "I hope she makes him happy." It had only been over a month since she'd left them, but she had already missed such a significant event in her family's lives. She reminded herself that it no longer concerned her as she was moving on, just as her brother clearly had.

"I didn't think that old dog had it in him to settle down," Spike quipped. "He's finally doing other men a favour by freeing his shackles on those poor women."

Edgar managed to chuckle a little at that, "I would agree." He stopped shortly after Flossie gave him a disapproving look.

"Now, I don't think my brother was that much of a playboy," Elizabeth turned to her sire in her brother's defense.

Spike turned to look at Elizabeth and quirked a brow, looking at her as if she had no clue what she was talking about. "'Course you wouldn't know; you've never been allowed out to parties, otherwise, you'd retract that comment. Should have seen all the skirts he'd chase," he sipped at his wine. "Edgar can vouch for me. Can't you, Edgar?" he looked to him curiously.

Flossie looked to Edgar once more with a warning glance. "I… I have seemed to have forgotten. Those nights were far too long ago; they are all but a blur to me now," he replied, looking back to his fiancee.

"Figures," Spike sighed over his glass. "But enough about _Jon_ ," Spike said, even showing disdain with the way he said the man's name, "what other stories have you got, Flossie? Any more juicy tidbits?" he waved his brows at her again.

Flossie looked to him and paused, then gave a small laugh. She wasn't quite sure what to make of this man, finding him initially very rude and off-putting, but there was something… about him that was oddly enough, charming.

"Are you that interested in my past, or are you just hoping to embarrass me?" Elizabeth asked with a sly smile, feeling more confident now that she had accepted her life.

Spike looked to Elizabeth, "I'd _love_ to learn more about your past, love. It's why I ask," he grinned. "But embarrass you?" he widened his eyes innocently. "How could you ever fathom that I would ever do such a thing?" he pressed a hand over his heart.

Flossie was intrigued at their idle banter as her eyes flicked back and forth between them; she quietly sipped at her wine.

"Not likely you'd share much of those kinds of stories, though, would you? That's why I'm asking your closest and dearest childhood friend," Spike turned to smile at the blonde woman.

Flossie almost choked, "M-me?" she managed to say, having to give a couple of coughs into a closed fist.

"Who else is there? Seems as though you're the only friend of Elizabeth's I've learnt about so far. You must have been someone special," Spike said, smiling at her. He was never one to engage in petty conversation and gossip with his friends, but this was different. He did this mostly to meddle with Elizabeth.

Elizabeth shook her head with a little chuckle, "It's all right, Flossie," she said to her friend. "I was not too fascinating as a girl, was I?"

"Why, is that what you think about yourself, Elizabeth?" Flossie blinked at her in surprise. "As a child, I thought you were the most fascinating girl I'd ever met. You never took to the social norms of a little girl. You might have had dolls, but I never once saw you play with them."

Spike looked to them dubiously; he had his reservations about her. "Really? Are you quite sure you're speaking of the same Elizabeth standing before you? Elizabeth Lorn?"

Flossie looked to him, "Yes, it might seem a little far fetched from the vision of the woman you see today: she has mellowed and is gentle- the perfect example of a lady. But as I can solely be witness, she had a quite passionate and untamed spirit. Other girls rather shied away from her because of her tomboyish ways."

Spike glanced to Elizabeth, thinking these versions of her were two completely different people.

"I didn't think anyone shied from me- I suppose I didn't notice. I just loved to explore; the grounds were so vast to me as a child," she said with a smile. Peculiar perhaps, but Elizabeth never thought of herself as fascinating.

"Might I… share a story from our past, Elizabeth?" Flossie looked to her friend a little cautiously.

"Not at all," Elizabeth nodded.

Flossie continued, "My family and I had been invited over to her home for dinner. We were young adolescents, then, and still quite gullible. Jon had tricked us into thinking that a bunny rabbit had hopped out into the backyard, just outside the kitchens. Well, when we got there, we were in for a fright," she smiled as she looked at her friend. "One of the cooks was butchering the chickens for dinner. We had just come upon the scene of one getting its head lopped off. As you can imagine, it was quite traumatising for us. We were screaming and in tears, so much so, that the man had to stop and console us," she paused and took a breath, moving her hand by her neck as she remembered that scene play vividly in her mind. She smiled weakly as she looked back to Elizabeth, "But even though we'd always been aware of what we were eating, the idea of it being an actual animal never crossed our minds, till we saw it…," she trailed off. "I-I was in hysterics, the kitchen staff couldn't console me. And when we learnt that they had to butcher the other fowl, Elizabeth ran out to their cages and released them," she gave a small laugh.

Spike glanced to Elizabeth, thinking that did match her righteous persona. He also found some similar pattern with her ways- first freeing the chickens from their cages as a girl, and now trying to free priests from the church. He sighed a bit; old habits die hard, he supposed.

"We had to share one bird amongst a party of about a dozen," Flossie laughed. "We mostly had our fill on rolls and vegetables, but after that sight, I barely picked at my portion at all," she said with a small smile. "Poor Elizabeth was sent to her room without dinner after that stint," she looked to her apologetically. "Did you have a proper meal after we left? I offered to share my portion with you, but your father was adamant about your punishment."

"Clara snuck me something before I went to bed," Elizabeth smiled. "I had almost forgotten that night."

"Not I; it will forever be burnt into my mind," Flossie sighed. "I had nightmares for weeks; I couldn't eat any fowl for over a month. Mother wouldn't allow me to visit till it was the holiday season," she smiled as she shook her head slightly.

"What of you two gentlemen? We've done more than give our share of stories. How is it that you know my Edgar, Mr. Pratt?" Flossie asked.

Spike suddenly glanced up at her, a little caught off guard when the topic suddenly turned to his past.

"Did you grow up together as children like Elizabeth and I?"

"No," Spike replied, taking a sip of his wine.

It was with a little relief that Elizabeth listened as the subject turned to him, "Yes, William, how do you two know each other?" she smiled, happy that it was his turn to have memories aired out.

Spike glanced to Elizabeth. He noticed the smirk she reserved for him; she probably wanted to see if there were any humiliating stories from his past since he'd been fishing for them in hers. "Cambridge, actually," he replied, giving short and concise answers.

Elizabeth's brows raised in surprise. There was apparently more to her sire than what met the eye.

"You're university colleagues?" Flossie smiled at Spike before turning her head to look at her fiance.

"We were," Edgar said. "William was in his third year when I had just started."

Spike continued to sip at his wine. Even as a youth, which were deemed as a young man's finest years of his life, he found little he actually enjoyed.

"That is interesting. Cambridge. Did you know each other long?" Elizabeth asked, genuinely interested now.

"For the past several years," Edgar replied for the both of them as he turned to Elizabeth. "I suppose one could consider that as a fairly long while," he smiled.

"Were you studying in the same field?" Flossie asked curiously, wondering how the two had come across with one another if they hadn't started in the same year.

"No, I studied English literature," Spike answered.

Elizabeth's smile grew. Now she knew how he was such a good conversationalist when it came to that subject.

Spike turned to look at Elizabeth, "You probably would want to pick Edgar's brain; he studied theology," he smiled wryly.

"Theology? If you don't mind my asking, was it simply an interest since you are obviously not a man of the cloth?" she asked with intrigue.

"I was absolutely fascinated with the subject. Of course, it started with an Anglican upbringing, but I had taken it upon myself to further my studies. I had seriously considered taking on priesthood," Edgar confessed.

Spike found this laughable. Maybe Elizabeth and Edgar should have been more suited to each other rather than poor Flossie.

"Is that true?" Flossie turned to him in shock. "How is it that I am just learning about this now?"

"It was something in the past, dear," Edgar replied, trying to appease his fiancee, "once I had furthered my studies, I found that it was a life that was best not suited for me."

"All right," she said with slight aloofness, not looking at him, "I'm glad."

"As am I, because we've found each other," he smiled. She eventually turned to face him and smiled back.

"I am glad to hear that. Flossie does deserve someone devoted to her," Elizabeth smiled warmly at her friend.

"But I am still a devout Christian, despite changing course with my path," Edgar added.

"Personally, I joined the church because I believed it was my inherent calling. Some things have changed since then, but I have not let go of the faith either," Elizabeth said with a small smile. "I know somewhere that God cares," her voice grew softer.

Spike fought the urge to smash his glass over his head. He shot an annoyed and disapproving look out the corner of his eye at Elizabeth and sighed. She just didn't seem to get it- God wasn't there for her any more.

"Might I implore, Miss Elizabeth, what was the reason for your course of action? To decide to devote your life to God and the church is a conscious and colossal decision- as I clearly know. But to suddenly withdraw from something of that magnitude would require an amount of equal dissuasion."

It was not a decision that she had made, rather her hand- and very life- was forced into a world that opposed the ways of what the church upheld. Elizabeth forced a smile, "I am quite aware of the repercussions of my decisions, and the grievances I have imposed on my family and friends, and perhaps even the church, but I have little regret for my past actions," she said, looking Edgar in the eye. "It became clear with the passage of time, that where I currently stand… do not align under the scrutiny of God's eye. My decision to rescind from the abbey was and continues to be a private matter that merits value, and I wholeheartedly believe is in the best interest of the church itself. Do you agree, that your own course of action was a matter only privy to yourself and God, Mr. Midgley?"

Edgar raised his brows slightly with surprise, "I… yes," he agreed with an amenable nod. Spike glanced to his progeny, impressed that she had managed to shut the man up.

"Still, studying different fields does not explain how you became acquainted," Flossie piped up, not sensing the shift of tension between her friend and lover. "Share the story of how you met," Flossie said with a little excitement.

Spike let out a sigh over the rim of his glass as he rolled his eyes.

Edgar laughed, relieved that the topic had been diverted, "Shall I share this tale, or should you, William?"

It didn't matter so much who told it, as the story pretty much played out like it did. "Please, by all means, Edgar," Spike replied a little dryly.

"Very well, then," Edgar smiled. "I was unfamiliar with campus grounds, but I remember coming across the sight of a lone man sitting over the edge of The River Cam. I thought it a bit queer, seeing that the weather was a little brisk for someone to be seated there, but my mind was a little askew with where to find all my classes, I had scarce time to deliberate. After turning away, I heard a distressed cry and then a sudden splash!" he chuckled.

"Oh, my!" Flossie covered her mouth as she peered at Spike curiously.

"I looked back to discover the man no longer sitting there."

"No!" Flossie continued.

"So, it was clear to me what had happened. I ran over to the edge to find William in the water," Edgar laughed.

Flossie's hand appeared to be affixed to her open mouth as she glanced between the two men.

Elizabeth laughed a bit behind her hand and looked at her sire. She didn't know him to be at all clumsy, even in a previous life as a human.

"I fell in by accident," Spike said in his defense as he frowned, "a draft had picked up suddenly and sent my papers afloat."

"Were they that important that you'd risk catching cold?" Flossie asked in wonder.

"Yes, at the time, they were," Spike replied. "It was always very beautiful and serene there, I thought it'd be a place where I could draw some inspiration."

Flossie looked a little confused as she glanced to him.

"William's a poet, Flossie dear," Edgar explained as he looked down at her.

"Oh," her eyes widened slightly, but she still did not understand enough of his passion for his motives.

"Suffice to say, I helped him out of the water, which took a little convincing. You appeared pretty adamant about fishing those papers out," Edgar said with an amused smile.

Spike scowled at him, "'Course you wouldn't understand. You can't even tell what the true essence of beauty is."

Edgar's smile quickly faded and was replaced with shock, "I beg your pardon?"

"It is just a story," Elizabeth said with a smile. Her sire was reacting huffy like an angry child. When stories were told about her, Elizabeth smiled and laughed along in good humor. She thought he was being overly defensive over a little funny story.

"Yes, I do rather agree with Miss Elizabeth. We are just having fun with these stories. I thought maybe you'd had gotten a little bit of a sense of humour from tonight, but clearly, you can't see the harmless fun in this at all," Edgar said, looking at Spike as though he was not in the wrong at all.

Spike drew a line of annoyance from his progeny to his former school colleague. Of course it was funny when Spike was the subject of being laughed at and humiliated. If he could, he'd drive a spike into Edgar's head for his own laughs. He smiled at the thought of that.

"Well, that's better," Edgar noted, giving an approving nod.

"It's not so much a story from the pages of one of your books, _Elizabeth_ ," Spike said, continuing with her line of thought as he looked to her. "Not the work dreamt up from one's imagination; I _lived_ that," he said harshly. "Since they're all just ' _stories'_ , how's about we share some others, then?" he smiled darkly, then looked to Flossie. "How about those rumours surrounding Elizabeth, Flossie dear?" he suggested, diverting the attention back to his progeny.

"Oh," her brows weaved together in surprise, "are you sure you'd like to hear about those?" Flossie glanced to Elizabeth with a little bit of concern.

"Trust me, pet, we'd _love_ to," Spike said, grinning from ear to ear.

Elizabeth turned to her friend and nodded, "Go on, Flossie. I am sure the rumours are silly and harmless," she stared up at her sire, static electricity almost seeming to crackle from her eyes from the tension between them.

"Well," Flossie began carefully at her friend's encouragement, "the first ones began with Elizabeth having run off to another abbey. From there, it turned into her being upset with the decline of her acceptance, that she ran off in shame."

Spike snorted at that. He almost believed that could happen.

Flossie paused to glance at him before continuing, "Then… there was speculation whether Elizabeth was actually seeing a man. Th-that's why I had assumed you two had eloped," she looked to them apologetically once more. "I-it spiralled into something more awful, I'm afraid," she glanced at her friend. "There was word that you… were with child and had taken off. I didn't believe that at all!" she cried, moving towards her.

Elizabeth raised her brows at how outlandish that was.

"Not likely that would ever happen then, or even now," Spike mumbled.

Taking Flossie's hand in hers, Elizabeth rested her other hand reassuringly on her shoulder and smiled, "Calm yourself, Flossie, that could not have happened." She looked into her eyes and made a slight indication with her brows as a means to tell her that she was still a virgin in secret. Such things were too vulgar to talk about openly.

Flossie smiled at her as she picked up at her hint and let out a soft sigh of relief, "I knew they were just rumours."

"Those appear to be relatively tame, to say the least," Spike went on to say; Elizabeth turned to him out of annoyance, "were there any more? Don't think to hold back on our account, love," he said, mildly amused.

Flossie glanced back at Spike once more before looking at Elizabeth. "There are…. I've already mentioned the kidnapping," she frowned slightly, "and, well… I really don't think I should mention this one."

"Now that isn't very fair, is it?" Spike said. "Teasing us with that sort of tidbit and ending up not divulging anything at all. If you're worried about Elizabeth's hurt feelings, she's clearly demonstrated her strong mental prowess. They're just _stories_ after all," he quipped merrily.

Flossie paused and glanced to her friend, a look of concern on her face.

"Go on, Flossie. Nothing could be as bad as that last rumour. They are just rumours, after all," Elizabeth said with a good humoured smile. Since her sire's little lecture, Elizabeth was trying to care less of what people said about her. This may be good for her, she thought.

Flossie wrung her hands in front of her, still undecided even though she had been given permission from her friend. "I'd heard a rumour… surrounding your family," her brows were stitched together tightly as she avoided looking at her, "that… that your father had come to disown you and banished you from your home."

Elizabeth's back straightened at this.

Flossie finally peeked up at her after that and moved forward in concern; this time she was the one to clasp her hand, "But it is just a nasty rumour, after all, Elizabeth. There's… no truth to that."

Spike raised a brow, "Now that makes for an interesting story," he mused.

"My father was rather bullheaded, but he was loving all the same," Elizabeth managed a small smile, thinking she would believe the words more if she said them out loud. "I don't know who would think up such a horrid thing. Marybell, perhaps," she said with a forced chuckle, "or Lady Mayweather. Goodness, did she not like me," she laughed some more, but it felt hollow to her.

"It's seems either of them are likely culprits," Flossie looked to her teasingly. "I'm just happy your spirit hasn't been disheartened with all this gossip. You have a mighty strong will," she smiled. "Though, it is clear those are untrue, why did you suddenly disappear?" Flossie asked after a short pause. "Perhaps I could dispel those rumours once and for all once we head back home. Ensure everyone you're safe and well."

Elizabeth's smile shrank, "As you know, I am on a journey of self discovery- it began then. I would appreciate it if… you didn't tell anyone. It is better this way if you can trust my reasoning," her voice was gentle, but her eyes were pleading softly.

"But you left without a word. Not even a note," Flossie frowned. "Can't I give something that would at least calm your mother's heart? She's been devastated. The only thing that's been keeping her mind preoccupied is your brother's pending marriage."

"She's a big girl now, love, let her decide what she feels is best," Spike intercepted.

Flossie looked up at him with surprise.

"See here, William, I would agree with Flossie. What Miss Elizabeth is doing is causing more harm than she believes. What kind of ungrateful daughter would leave without at least telling her family her whereabouts? Rather selfish and disobedient of her."

Elizabeth's demure smile had all but vanished as she looked to the man.

"Lady," Spike said nonchalantly over his glass.

Elizabeth's eyes flicked to her sire.

"Come again?" Edgar turned to him in confusion.

Raising his wine to his lips, Spike glanced over at Edgar, "She's a lady. Lady Elizabeth Lorn, daughter of the Duke of Loundes, Xavier Lorn." He sipped.

Elizabeth was surprised he had remembered her peerage, considering how much he seemed to put her down. It almost vaguely resembled something like him coming to her defense with Edgar's onslaught.

"Well, that just makes matters worse!" Edgar's voice rose.

"Please, Edgar," Flossie looked to her fiance with a frown.

"I cannot hold my tongue any further, dear. To have such an ungrateful daughter- and a lady, no less- would be reason enough to have her father- a _duke-_ disown her. I wouldn't blame him if he did."

Elizabeth's back tensed as she took a half step back and clenched her jaw.

"Edgar!" Flossie cried.

Spike looked to Edgar with some annoyance. In some small way, he felt like he was talking about him- he was, after all, Elizabeth's 'other father'. "Do you remember what happened at the church?" Spike asked him.

Edgar looked to him again with confusion, "What are you talking about, William?"

"Church of St. Mary the Great. Ring any bells?"

"What are you-" Edgar's look of confusion suddenly dawned into realisation.

"Ever share that with your dearest Flossie?" Spike smirked.

Edgar blanched as he swallowed, "Th-that brings no importance to what we have," he stuttered.

"What, what is it?" Flossie looked between the two of them, suddenly alarmed.

"Nothing dear," Edgar quickly replied, flicking a glance at her as he looked back at his friend.

"It's not so important, is it? Don't think Elizabeth's matters are much to you, either, you think?"

"No… no I believe they are not," Edgar replied a little more quietly.

It came as a little shock to Elizabeth that her sire interjected seemingly on her behalf. She looked to him questionably, unclear with where he stood with her.

With a small sigh, she glanced down and recomposed herself as she decidedly took her leave from them for good. As much as she loved her friend and her family, she had had enough. "It was lovely to see you again, Flossie," she raised her head and smiled at her childhood friend. "I need some air; please excuse me." She eyed Edgar warily, angry at what he had said, but slightly curious as to what her sire meant by what he had said to make the man so unsettled. As she walked by her sire, she gave him a look of gratitude, "Thank you," she said beneath her breath, something only he could hear.

Spike made no indication that he had heard her.

"Oh, please, don't leave, Elizabeth," Flossie frowned as she watched her go. She turned to Edgar with disappointment, "Why did you have to say those awful things? It's been forever since I've seen her, and now she won't ever want to speak to me again," she huffed, her round cheeks getting pink.

"I-I'm sorry, dear, I didn't realise my words would cause you so much distress," he said, taking her hands into his.

She pulled away, "You should have known, Edgar. I wanted her as one of my bridesmaids. Shouldn't that have been clear? She is a close friend of mine."

"Please, forgive me, Flossie dear," he rubbed at her arms when she turned away from him. "I highly doubt she'd ever stop speaking to you, though. Who could? You're such a delight to be around."

She continued to pout, but very slowly, began to yield to his charms.

"Forgive me, Flossie?" he took her hand within his and kissed it.

"Oh… all right," she tried to look disappointed, but her small smile deceived her true feelings.

Spike sighed and rolled his eyes, "God, kill me now," he muttered.

The couple glanced to Spike, again surprised that he was still there.

"Should you perhaps go and see about how Elizabeth is doing, Mr. Pratt?" Flossie gently suggested.

"She'll be fine," Spike waved it off, "she's a rather independent girl."

Flossie glanced at Edgar before looking back to him, "I… I've been curious, if you don't mind me asking. It's understandable that Elizabeth has… devoted herself to a journey of self discovery, but what of you, Mr. Pratt? What has brought you to Nice?"

Spike lowered his glass as he raised his brows, "A girl, actually."

"Might it be presumptuous for me to say, but did you travel here for love?" Flossie asked curiously.

Spike finally smiled at her pleasantly, "I did."

"You finally managed to move Cecily's heart?" Edgar asked in surprise, overcoming his uncomfortable position he had had earlier by the sudden shift in topic.

"No, it's not Cecily," Spike said to him with evident annoyance, "I found a girl- a woman- who is more deserving of my love," he said, a little more pleased.

Flossie smiled; she knew it! It had to be Elizabeth he was speaking of, if not this… Cecily. Though, she did find it a bit odd how he expressed his affections for her…, but she supposed everyone did that differently. "Could you… perhaps share a little about this mysterious love of yours?" she smiled.

"She's special. There's no one else quite comparable. She makes me feel… alive," he beamed, finding humour with his last statement.

"That's wonderful!" Flossie replied, moved by the amount of passion he had for her. She couldn't wait to share this with her friend.

┼†‡

In the time that Elizabeth had parted from Angelus, he had finally managed to settle matters with Pierre's men. It seemed he was slowly but surely winning Pierre's trust, but it was like pulling teeth. He already had Maurizo's approval and a couple of the other associates', but he knew that the others would not budge unless they saw their leader take action first. He would get him over time; he could be patient if he wanted to, and in this case, he had no other option.

After making some headway, Angelus moved to the ballroom and scanned the area. Looking off towards the walls where chairs were lined for weary feet, he caught sight of the unmistakeable shape of white.

┼†‡

Elizabeth was a little more in her element once she away from them. Settled in a chair with a sweet morsel and a glass of wine that she sipped on occasionally, she watched the dancers on the floor.

"I hope I didn't have you waiting long," Angelus said as he walked over to her.

Elizabeth looked up and immediately brightened up with a smile, "Not at all. I haven't been sitting here long."

He smiled and took a seat next to her, "Have you been enjoying yourself?" he asked carefully, considering how she had left in tears a couple hours before.

"I had a conversation with an old friend. It was awkward, to say the very least," she said with a light laugh.

"An old friend? You've managed to find someone here from your former life?" Angelus asked in surprise. That seemed very coincidental, but not unlikely. Many English aristocrats headed down to Nice to forego the cold winters for milder ones. "Did they… bring up past memories?" he asked carefully.

"She did," she said with a small smile, "pleasant ones, though. I have known her since I was a little girl." Elizabeth looked up at him with soft and loving eyes, feeling truly happy at that moment despite being reminded of unpleasantries minutes before.

Angelus smiled at Elizabeth, "I'm glad you were able to revisit a part of your home, even in the southern part of France," he chuckled a bit.

Elizabeth giggled and nodded, "It was a pleasant visit."

He pulled her plate and glass aside and offered his hand to her as he stood up, "Care for a dance, Lizzy?"

"I would love to," she replied. Taking his hand, they walked together to the dance floor and found a spot nestled between other prospective lovers. Elizabeth looked up at him as they began to dance with the melody of the strings. There was no hiding the look she held for him on her young face- it was the look of love. There was no mistaking that.

┼†‡

On her suspicions, Flossie decided to ask a line of questions that would help to affirm them. "Have you known her long, Mr. Pratt?" she fished for more details, wondering how long he had been acquainted with her friend.

"A few months. I suppose to some that wouldn't be considered long, but I feel like I've known her my entire life," Spike smiled. It was odd, he actually hadn't thought about how much time had passed between them. Since knowing her, his entire existence just revolved around Drusilla.

Flossie beamed, certain that the woman he spoke of was her friend. Elizabeth had disappeared for the past month, and if it was any indication, their familiarities had happened before she had left. This encounter had, in turn, persuaded her to stray from her home and religious path, Flossie surmised. Elizabeth's journey was probably a reflection whether she truly felt she belonged with William Pratt at all. After Flossie would disclose these details to her, Elizabeth would be bound to acknowledge her love for him and return home. Flossie remained in place, though inside, she was bubbly and giddy.

"At least you still remain a romantic, William," Edgar commented. "Where did you disappear off to? It was around the end of summer since we'd last heard from you. Have you been in Nice all this time?"

"Not quite. I've been travelling around. Visited Brussels, Frankfurt, and Paris, to name a few." Spike sighed, getting bored with their conversation. Maybe he'd head off and find Drusilla. He recalled seeing her slip off through one of the doors.

"Seems you've kept yourself rather busy," Edgar said with surprise. "We'd all assumed something had happened to you after that night."

Spike peered at him with renewed curiosity, "What night?"

Edgar blinked at his friend for a moment before speaking, "Are you to tell me you've no idea what happened?"

"No, I don't. Enlighten me," Spike said curiously.

"Very well, then," Edgar began. "I recall a few months from before, we had been invited to Sebastien's party. At the time, I was taken away because my mother's bitch was giving birth to a set of puppies. I'd never been more thankful in my life for that."

Edgar and his dogs, Spike thought. Always one to be surrounded by bitches.

"And why is that?" Spike asked nonchalantly. He had gone, but he didn't remember why it'd been something so fortunate to miss. Maybe because the man had saved himself from hearing his awful poetry, he mused.

"You did attend, didn't you?"

"I did," Spike replied, his curiosity returning.

"Well, I thought you'd have known first hand. That night, the whole lot of them were slaughtered. It was a literal bloodbath," Edgar replied.

"Oh, no, please, no more talk of this," Flossie squirmed as she played with a loose blonde curl suspended by her face.

"I'm sorry, my love. I shan't mention those words again," Edgar patted at her arm.

Spike looked to him in surprise. He hadn't known about this at all. He'd left in a huff after his heart had been crushed, only to have his 'friends' follow and mock him more while he pushed past the door in tears. It was a little ironic, he found, that the people who had so ridiculed him had ended in demise. It was some sort of poetic justice. "You don't say," Spike replied, genuinely in awe.

"Well, in all honesty, I'd thought you might have been one of the… unfortunate casualties," Edgar said carefully, not wanting to upset Flossie, "but, I didn't see your name mentioned in the paper. Since that night, no one had heard any word from you at all. It was like you had vanished into thin air."

"Huh," Spike smirked, "not quite, have I?"

"Seems not," Edgar replied.

"Even your mother's whereabouts were unknown. Understandably, with her growing condition, it was difficult for her to travel, but not even the grocer had seen her maid in weeks. I suspect you've relocated here with her. Warmer weather is better for consumption, I hear," he nodded. "How is she, by the way?"

At mention of his mother, Spike went quiet. He eclipsed his emotions with a bittersweet smile, "She didn't come with us."

"You've relocated her somewhere warmer, then?" Edgar nodded, "Italy's climate has always been more favourable."

Flossie lightly tugged at Edgar's arm as she looked up at him, warning him to stop. He might not have picked up at the man's subtle cues, but for a woman, she was a little more sensible to matters when it concerned family, especially when it concerned an ill mother.

"No, not Italy, either," Spike sighed, his smile shrinking.

┼†‡

"It has been a long while since we've last danced, hasn't it?" Angelus mused as he pulled Elizabeth gently around the dance floor.

Elizabeth smiled up at him and giggled, "It has. I've missed it," she shyly admitted as she cast her eyes downward.

Angelus laughed lightly at her timid confession, "In that case, I'll keep you all to myself," he smiled. "I did promise you before that you'd tire from all our dancing. Shall I fulfill that broken promise tonight?" he teased.

She looked back up at him with blushing cheeks, "Please," she said with a sweet smile, "I would love nothing more."

┼†‡

Spike didn't understand why he even bothered to stay and converse with this man. It was like he wanted him to admit to what he had done. "Do you want me to just say it? I bloody _killed_ her!" Spike imagined grabbing him by the shirt as he growled into his face. Thankfully, a twittering, lighthearted laugh snapped him out of his derisive fantasy before he actually took to entertaining that impulse. Spike turned to see Drusilla twirling around with her arms spread wide as she laughed.

"Lookit the butterflies!" she laughed, staring upward. "Some of 'em got bat wings."

Spike smiled as he watched from a distance.

"What a madwoman," Edgar muttered, soon forgetting his train of thought.

Spike turned to look at him darkly.

"I wonder how she managed to get into the ranks of this kind of party. Clearly she doesn't belong here," he said, glancing at her with judgement from the corner of his eye.

"You better mind your tongue," Spike warned with a deadly tone, taking a close step towards his friend.

Edgar looked up at him in startlement, "My goodness, William, what has come over you?"

"That's _my_ woman you're speaking of!" Spike hissed. He glanced over towards Drusilla once more.

Flossie's eyes widened as she peered at the woman in question, disappointed to learn that it wasn't her friend that he had been speaking so fondly of from before.

Edgar nervously glanced towards Drusilla, "I wasn't aware," he replied, looking back to his disgruntled friend, "my apologies."

Spike glared at him for a moment longer before leaving them for Drusilla.

"Did you have a nice nibble, love?" Spike asked gently as he took her hand.

Drusilla smiled at him as she stopped her spontaneous dancing, "Bit off more than I could chew," she giggled. She pulled close and snuggled against his side.

┼†‡

"I've always found William a little peculiar, in more ways than one, but for him to choose a woman like that," Edgar said to Flossie in shock as he watched the other pair from afar, "I don't know what's come over him."

Unknowingly, all their words were being listened to; Spike made no indication as he turned away from his friend's gaze.

Flossie also looked, still disappointed from learning he was no longer a possible candidate for her friend, "Is it so unlikely of him? I mean, he is already rather peculiar," she said, glancing up at him.

"He always had lofty ideas and lived in his own world. He came off as more of a meek personality then, but seeing him today, I believe he's starting to show his true colours: rude and uncivilised," he said haughtily, guiding Flossie away.

Spike also turned with Drusilla on his arm; they slowly crept behind them as he listened.

"People used to call him 'William the Bloody' because of his bloody awful poetry."

"Is that so?" Flossie asked, a little surprised.

"They were terrible. I hope he gave up on that idiotic dream of his. He was never talented. Never would be. I'm even surprised he found a woman. Well, considering from that little display, not really much of one," Edgar commented.

Spike bristled with contempt. He turned to Drusilla, "You up for a bit of fun, pet?" he smiled.

She giggled with excitement as she gave her hands a small clap, "Ooh, always!"

┼†‡

Maddelena perked up as she suddenly noticed Spike and Drusilla from across the room. Mildly laughing with her circle of guests, she excused herself as she made her way to find more able bodied servants.

┼†‡

On the dance floor, Angelus peered in the distance to see Maddelena from the adjoining room speaking to a number of her male servants. She did not look pleased. He assumed that she had spotted her uninvited guests. "It seems our night of dancing may be cut short, dear," he said with a sigh, "but for the time being, till that does happen, we'll enjoy the moment," Angelus looked back to Elizabeth and smiled.

"I do wish we were alone more often," she said softly as she followed his gaze across the room.

"Have patience, my dear Lizzy. Once I've settled matters with Pierre, you'll be my main priority. I won't let you out of my sights. I promise," he smiled down at her as she returned him a sweet one. Once they had shifted positions, Angelus garnered a glance across the room to see that the men had been dispatched.

Maddelena turned and caught sight of Angelus from where she stood and raised her hand slightly as she beamed across at him.

He acknowledged her with a secretive smile before rotating around once more as he danced, then shifted his smiling gaze back down to Elizabeth.

┼†‡

Spike and Drusilla had found entertainment in the forms of Edgar and Flossie, having managed to catch up with them and 'inviting' them outside.

Spike stalked forward towards him, slowly, menacingly.

Edgar backed up as he put up a protective arm in front of Flossie, "H-here now, William! What has gotten into you?" he demanded, trying to put on a brave front for his fiancee.

"A lot, actually," Spike laughed.

Drusilla grinned from over his shoulder as she followed closely behind; her eyes were set on the young blonde woman, "Do you like sweets, lovey?"

"I demand you stop with this preposterous behaviour of yours! Whatever sore ego you may be feeling from events of years past is foolish now!" Edgar continued, though he still edged away from him. That was until Flossie gave a small yelp when she backed into a hedge.

Spike snorted, "How precious! You think that it has to do with some sort of revenge?" Spike started to laugh, "Well, all right, maybe just a little. But I did warn you about speaking ill about my woman," he stepped up till he was just inches from his face, "and what do you do? Not very gentlemanly of you, was it?" his smile turned dark.

Edgar's face grew red partially out of embarrassment and insult, "I have nothing to apologise about," he said stubbornly, believing he couldn't have heard him having been several metres away.

"Wasn't gonna ask you for one," Spike smirked. Just as he was about to grab Edgar by the throat, he was interrupted by a loud yell; he turned around.

" _M'aide-moi!_ " Edgar called out towards the male servants. "He's trying to hurt me! He's gone mad!" he yelled as the men hurried over.

Spike turned to glare at him, "Way to spoil the fun."

" _Monsieur, vous devez venir avec nous,_ " one of the men said as he approached Spike; he took hold of him by the arm.

Spike glanced down where the other's hand grasped, "Excuse me?" he peered back up at him dangerously.

" _Vous avez pas vraiment été invitée."_

"Oh," Spike's brows shot up in surprise, "this all about that silly invitation? Thought we were past that, mates." Before he had time to respond, he was manhandled by another pair of strong hands. "Really, now?" Spike growled, getting pulled back away from Edgar. He shook one of the men off before two more took ahold of him. "Bloody- oy! Watch where you're touchin'!" Spike glared over his shoulder at the man behind him.

Edgar watched with a frown as his 'friend' was so roughly taken again.

Spike's eyes searched the area as he was being pulled against his will, "Dru? Where did you go? Drusilla!"

Edgar finally let out a sigh of relief when the frantic man was no longer within sight. "Flossie dear, I do hope-" he turned to see that his fiancee was no longer with him.

┼†‡

Spike's yelling and cursing could be heard from within the mansion as they carried him past one of the side doors that had been opened for some ventilation. A couple of manservants quickly shut the French doors from inside as curious dancers glanced up and began to slow at the sound of a screaming man.

Elizabeth also turned her head and peered outward with a look of worry.

Angelus sighed lightly and rolled his eyes, "He's of no concern to us, Elizabeth, just ignore that," he assured her.

She turned back to Angelus with a small frown and nod.

┼†‡

Spike was thrown out on the front lawn of the estate as the guards yelled at him in French, beckoning for him to get away. " _Fiche le camp d'ici!_ "

Spike stood abruptly and yanked at the lapels of his coat, "Don't have to tell me twice!" he snarled. "But my girl's still in there," he gestured towards the mansion behind them.

The men did not budge; they stared him down with steely eyes as they rooted themselves with where they stood, waiting for him to turn away.

"Really? Is that the way you're gonna play it? She doesn't know where I am!" Spike tried reasoning.

Again, they made no indication to move.

"Fine!" Spike growled, stomping off as though he had given up. "I'll just find another way in," he grumbled to himself.

The entire estate covered a huge expanse of land as Spike was now realising, prowling around the perimeter of it. He ended up winding his way through a small woodland that eventually brought him to the edges of the garden. He recognised this area. Jumping over the tall hedges, he began to find his way back to where he had been interrupted from killing his Cambridge friend before he was dragged off. He ducked behind some bushes when he caught sight of a servant in the distance and waited for it to be clear once more.

"Drusilla?" he hissed, wondering where his lover had wandered off to. She was a little flighty at times, but she'd usually give him warning when she wanted to take off on her own. He wandered around that area for a bit longer when he saw a shadowy figure in the distance.

"Flossie, dear? Where are you?" Edgar called out. "This is no longer a joking matter. Come out, dear!"

Spike scoffed as he walked forward, "The girl finally came to her senses and left you?" he sneered.

Edgar spun on his spot in alarm, "W-william!" he cried, grabbing at his chest. He straightened himself and turned away, clearly annoyed, "Flossie appears to have gotten herself lost, is all. I thought you had been told to leave the premises. What are you doing back here?"

"I'm looking for Drusilla. But, now that I've found you all alone, seems like I can tie up some loose ends," he chuckled.

Edgar glanced at him from the corner of his eye, "I don't have time for this drivel. Whatever it is that I might have said or done in the past to let you harbour such a grudge, no longer holds any water for me. Let us let bygones be bygones." He turned to face him and extended a hand, "Shall we shake on it?"

Spike paused and glanced down at his hand. Slowly, a small smile broke out across his face as he placed his hand within his and shook it once, then yanked him in close towards his face, "Or I could just kill you," the vampire grinned, revealing his ridged brow and yellow eyes. Edgar stared at him in shock, unable to scream or move.

Spike made short of his death within seconds, then kicked his corpse into the underbrush of some bushes.

"Dru, darling, where've you gone?" he called out, continuing on with his search.

┼†‡

Inside, Angelus continued to dance with Elizabeth through the course of a few songs, something that was rather uncommon to do. When a couple did dance together, they would end it formally and move onto different partners. If they did choose to dance again, it would be at a further interval, so that it would allow for others to get a turn. This did not so much occur to the pair, causing some odd stares from other women and hushed whispering.

Elizabeth didn't seem to mind this at all, happy that she was the one dancing with him. All she could hear was the swell of the strings with each passing song, and everyone else was just a mere blur in the backdrop- she couldn't see anyone but Angelus.

As the song ended, Angelus smiled and parted with a bow, just as he had done with each song. This time, however, he didn't move back towards Elizabeth as the next one began. He looked across the room to see Maurizio entering the ballroom as if he were searching for someone. The man's eyes brightened when he spotted the pair.

"It appears I have a contender," Angelus chuckled lightly.

Elizabeth turned and glanced over her shoulder.

On the other end of the ballroom, Maddelena rose from her seat as she looked towards them as well. Having a word with her cousin, they linked arms and moved out across the floor.

Angelus turned to his other side and observed them briefly, "It seems we're surrounded," he peered back down at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth turned back around and directed her gaze towards them.

"Shall we face the consequences? Or…," Angelus took her hand and lowered his head as he smiled at her, "shall we run?"

Facing Angelus again, Elizabeth giggled before biting her lip, "We run," she said breathlessly, turning her head upward to him as an excited gleam passed her eyes. "But wherever to?"

"Follow my lead," Angelus smiled.

She nodded.

They slowly threaded around dancers as he escorted her off the dance floor. Angelus glanced over his shoulder to see that Maurizio was alarmed to find them leaving the ballroom; Maddelena was just as surprised. Looking to Elizabeth, Angelus grinned before turning back around. As the clearing of bodies lessened, he quickened his pace till they were out of their hosts' views. Elizabeth could not help but smile herself, finding a certain thrill in their mischief.

Angelus pulled Elizabeth close to him as he slipped behind the doorway of an empty room, just narrowly missing Maddelena's sights as she peeked out of the ballroom to see them gone. Being caught off guard, Elizabeth nearly gasped as she was pressed to his firm chest. As she stood quietly, she surprised herself as she even dared to lean against him. She lowered her eyes as she listened to the sound of Maddelena sigh with disappointment, but her mind was focused on how the form of his body felt beneath her gloved hands. Maddelena was met with Maurizio, having caught up with her as they exchanged some words in Italian, shortly to depart ways as he walked off down the hall away from where Angelus and Elizabeth stood hidden, and Maddelena retreated back into the ballroom.

As Angelus repositioned himself off the wall, Elizabeth blushed when she realised how much of her own weight she had been putting against him. He carefully peeked out to see that they were in the clear before turning to Elizabeth with a smile. Even after all the moments they had shared alone together, Elizabeth still fluttered her lashes at him timidly, but she could not suppress the smile that gleamed across her own lips.

Angelus led her out by the hand as they swept past idle aristocrats. Following behind Maurizio, Angelus spied on him before he began to slip upstairs. Elizabeth lifted one side of her gown as she climbed the stairs from behind.

There was no denying that her night had started out almost devastatingly, but Angelus had reaffirmed her faith in him, and now she felt like she was in a dream. She looked up at the man who walked in front of her, admiring how broad his shoulders were, and how his long and dark hair made him look all the more handsome. She giggled to herself when she thought that he was her prince come to life- she even had a beautiful gown to match the ballroom occasion. However, since they had already managed to evade Maurizio and Maddelena, she wondered where they were going.

The sounds of the party grew more distant the farther Angelus led Elizabeth forward. Finally finding a room on the second floor, he opened the door and entered, "Come on, let me show you something."

They apparently were in a study; the moonlight from outside shone through the tall windows allowing them enough light to see around them. Angelus moved towards a black safe that sat in the corner, just set off to the side from the bureau.

"What are we doing in here?" Elizabeth whispered uncomfortably; she kept her hands clasped in front of her, being careful not to touch anything.

Angelus pressed his ear against the safe door and slowly began to turn the dial as he listened for the clicks. When he believed he had gotten the correct combination, he brought his hand onto the handle. He paused as he looked to Elizabeth with a grin.

Elizabeth's eyes were wide as she stood half petrified, but she could not help but be curious as to what was in the safe.

He pressed the handle downward and a loud clank resounded almost angrily. With a soft chuckle, Angelus pulled the door open and retrieved a small black velvet bag from inside.

"This is what Pierre's involved in," Angelus opened the bag and poured the contents into his palm.

Elizabeth took a step closer and peered at his hand with growing curiosity. What came out appeared to be jagged little pieces of glass-like rocks, clouded over and semi-opaque.

"They're diamonds," he explained.

"They're beautiful…," she breathed in awe, her curiosity replaced with intrigue. She had seen diamonds bright and polished, but never in their natural state.

"I'd say they're a little too rough around the edges. They'll look much better after they've been cut and refined," Angelus commented, giving her a smile as he glanced up at her. "Diamond mining has become a rather lucrative business this past decade in South Africa," he let the raw diamonds tumble back into the velvet lined bag before pulling the drawstring tight. "It's gotten dangerously competitive; I thought I'd get my foot in the door before it shut," he set the bag back into the safe and closed it before turning around to face her.

"These came all the way from Africa? Goodness... I-I've always meant to read about it."

He chuckled lightly, "Perhaps after Pierre agrees to a partnership, I'll let you have your pick. Carat, clarity, colour, and cut- it'll be entirely up to you. Would you like t'at?" he asked with a small smile.

Elizabeth's cheeks reddened in response, "I would…, I would like that very much," she smiled.

"If you wish, we can travel there as well. Maybe even see the mines for yourself," he suggested, taking a step forward.

Elizabeth brightened all the more, "Yes, I would one day. It sounds all so exciting."

Coming closer, Angelus lifted his hand and swept some strands of her hair away from her face. Elizabeth fell silent as his fingertips lightly grazed her cheek. A sensation like cool liquid slowly crawled over her scalp; she could feel each root of her hair stand on end. Angelus leaned forward as he peered down at her, drawing his face even closer. Being still and expectant, Elizabeth held an unnecessary breath as she waited for his lips to touch hers- but they never did.

Angelus suddenly stopped to glance at the door.

With a frown dawning on her face, Elizabeth glanced up at him. He took her hand instead and pulled her along with him again, slipping them behind the door like before. Pressing a finger to Elizabeth's lips, he waited as the sound of footsteps approached closer.

Elizabeth was almost grateful for the impending stranger, finding herself in close proximity to Angelus so soon. She felt a nervous flutter in her stomach, but it wasn't something that was at all unpleasant.

The footsteps stopped at the doorway.

Angelus lowered his finger and wound his hands tightly around Elizabeth's narrow waist, pulling her forward against him. Elizabeth batted her eyelids as she tilted her head up to peek at him, only to feel his hands trace over the small of her back as he pressed her closer, holding her in place. Her cheeks flushed like she was with fever as she turned her head to the side and rested it against his chest; goose pimples crept across the length of her arms and the back of her neck.

They weren't close enough, she thought. If it hadn't been for her crinoline cage, she could have felt her legs press against his strong thighs, her soft body against his trim and firm torso. She flushed even more at the vulgarity of her thoughts, but she couldn't help but yearn for his touch. To feel him against her was almost like an affirmation that she wasn't just living a fantasy dream, that they were both presently there and real. She pressed her hips forward against the cage and felt an odd sensation she'd never felt before, causing her to draw a breath.

Angelus' eyes flickered down as he peered over her head quizzically.

A shadow loomed in the room from the doorway as someone peeked inside. Not seeing anything out of place, they reached forward and shut the door.

The two stood in silence for a moment longer- Angelus listening to the servant retreating as his footsteps became more distant, and Elizabeth, trying to keep herself in place so she didn't squirm against her growing ache.

"I think it's safe for us to leave now," he peered at her with slight amusement.

With slightly parted lips, Elizabeth drew in a breath before slowly raising her head to meet his eyes. Her lids drooped almost heavily like she was drugged, her eyes glazed and the blue lessened in them where the blackness of her pupils expanded.

With a brief pause, Angelus looked at her before suddenly kissing her. Elizabeth whimpered against his lips and her eyes fell shut. She felt her legs give way, but she was still standing upright, braced against his strong hands and arms. Finding her footing, she stood on tiptoe, arching her back so it would be more comfortable for the both of them. Her hands seemed to have minds of their own, as they soon glided up from his chest to the sides of his face, her fingers feeling the strong set bone of his jawline like they were chiselled from marble. The ache pulsed in her as she pressed more heavily against the crinoline cage, feeling the man through the heavy fabrics of her beautiful garment. For once, she almost regretted wearing one of Jean-Baptiste's creations.

Angelus finally pulled away, causing her hands to lower his shoulders; Elizabeth moaned again, but in frustration and disappointment. "It's getting late. I think we've avoided our gracious hosts long enough without them getting too suspicious of our disappearances," he teased.

Elizabeth lowered her head slightly and eventually nodded. It was reasonable, and they would have been rude and ungrateful company and friends if they had prolonged their time together. Her mouth was set in a straight line; though agreeable, she was not happy about it.

Untangling himself from her form, Angelus opened the door carefully and peeked out before proceeding to exit. Elizabeth could not help but smile again as Angelus peered back at her with a toothy grin. He tugged on her hand playfully as she followed along from behind.

┼†‡

As they descended back downstairs, he brought her hand on his arm instead. Elizabeth's smile shrank with disappointment, but she respected Angelus' wishes to keep their relationship private. The small voice in the back of her head often questioned why it wasn't appropriate for him to disclose their relationship now. Drusilla seemed less erratic and often enjoyed Elizabeth's company, and Maurizio appeared to have gotten over the grudge he held over her too, but the voice persisted. She'd just brush it aside, rationalising him to be a gentleman.

Just as Angelus removed his hand, Maddelena caught sight of them.

"Angelus, Elizabeth," she called out in surprise as a slight frown creased between her brows.

Angelus glanced up and acknowledged her with a smile. Elizabeth, however, reacted quite the opposite, as her already dimming smile shrank even more.

"Where did you go?" Maddelena waited for them at the foot of the stairwell.

Angelus moved forward and greeted her formally, giving her kisses on the cheeks, "I apologise. Elizabeth suddenly felt unwell and wanted to be somewhere more private. I hope you don't mind that we went upstairs till she felt settled."

Elizabeth stood quietly by his side with a polite smile. She kept her insecurity well hidden, now that she was standing in the giant shadow of Maddelena. It was not something she wanted to openly admit, but she felt a little threatened by her.

"No, of course not," Maddelena replied with slight surprise before glancing to Elizabeth. "Maurizio was also looking for you. Did you see him?"

"No, we didn't," Angelus replied, acting a little surprised. "But with the time already so late, I believe we must retire for the night."

Maddelena's expression fell a little at his news, "So soon?"

"It is close to midnight," Angelus chuckled lightly. "I do thank you for the invitation and the hospitality. The food and drinks were delicious as usual," he smiled.

"Not even a dance tonight, Angelus," she teased; though she was smiling, she had a slight frown to her face. Lowering her voice, she began to say something to him in Italian, obviously wanting to keep it only between her and him. Angelus also replied in Italian, his voice calming and coaxing as usual as he smiled congenially, managing to make her relax.

Elizabeth's hand tightened by her side to keep herself from letting her worry show. Keeping on brave airs, she continued to smile and simply waited.

Maddelena smiled at Angelus and pulled him into an embrace as she gave him departing kisses.

"Merry Christmas, Maddelena," Angelus said.

"A Merry Christmas to you, too, Angelus," she smiled. Maddelena turned to Elizabeth and also exchanged the same pleasant farewells, "I do hope you will come for tea," she said as she hugged her.

"Of course I will," Elizabeth replied kindly. "Merry Christmas, Maddelena."

Just as they were about to leave, Maurizio finally found them, "There you are," he said, walking towards them.

Angelus paused, "We thought it was an appropriate time to retire for the night."

Maurizio nodded in agreement, "I will join you in the carriage. Just allow me to say my farewells."

┼†‡

Angelus escorted Elizabeth outside to find Spike wandering around, looking a little lost. Elizabeth watched him with little surprise. After all that had happened that night, seeing her sire still there was one of the least things that was surprising.

"Heard you were thrown out," Angelus commented.

Spike scowled at him, "I'd have killed them if I wanted to, but Drusilla vanished on me. We came in a different carriage, and now it's gone. Might I join you?"

Angelus quirked a brow, "You mean to say she abandoned you with the carriage and left you stranded by yourself."

"I… I don't know. Sometimes Dru has her own agenda. I don't control her, _Angelus_ ," Spike replied tartly.

"Very well, but Maurizio is joining us."

Just as he had mentioned his name, the man stepped out. Maurizio stopped as he approached the three, glancing between each of them, and looking to Spike with even more surprise as he didn't expect him to be there.

"William will be joining us on our journey home, Maurizio," Angelus explained.

"How… is it that he's here?" he turned to his friend as he asked carefully.

"He got lost."

Spike squinted his eyes at his sire, "Hey, I heard that."

┼†‡

Once shuffled into the carriage, there was an awkward silence.

Spike was seated next to Maurizio, avoiding looking his way or partaking in any conversation. He honestly just wanted to see Drusilla again and have the night be over. He didn't even get much blood on his hands that time. Although, ending Edgar's life was one of the highlights of the night, seeing him at the party, and having Edgar pester him for a good amount of it, left Spike annoyed.

"I am planning on having a Christmas dinner tomorrow," Maurizio said, breaking the awkward silence. "It isn't as elaborate as what you've seen tonight, just a traditional dinner from this region."

"Splendid. I'm happy you decided to stay and spend it with us," Angelus commented.

Maurizio smiled as he glanced between the two of them, his gaze falling to Elizabeth, "Yes, so have I."

┼†‡

When they finally reached the manor, Spike hopped out without another word and went inside. He rushed up the stairs and into his bedroom to find that Drusilla was already seated at the vanity table in her chemise. She was humming to herself as she brushed her hair.

"Welcome home, William," she stopped and turned to him with a smile.

He walked forward and kissed her, "Where did you suddenly go? You can't just vanish on me like that, Dru!" he cried.

"Why are you yelling at me?" she whined, crinkling her face into a sad pout.

Spike sighed, "I'm sorry, ducky, I'm not angry with you."

Drusilla abruptly turned from him, "Hmph!"

"I was worried, love!" Spike knelt down as he gazed up at her and took one of her hands into both of his. "I don't want anything to happen to you, you understand that, right?"

Drusilla remained silent but only lifted her chin slightly, waiting for Spike to say more.

Spike kissed her hand, "I came all this way to Nice just to find you. I nearly got killed in Paris."

Drusilla gave him a side-glance, "How?"

"Public execution, you know, the guillotine," he motioned with a bladed hand, hitting the back of his neck.

"Would there have been a lot of blood?" she turned and smiled at him, suddenly curious like a child.

"Not likely, love. I'd have caught on fire from the daylight first, then turned to dust from decapitation," he smiled lovingly at her.

She placed her hands by the sides of his face as he leaned into her touch, "My sweet William, your words are such poetry," she said, giving him a kiss on the forehead.

┼†‡

With Spike abruptly abandoning them, the remaining three ended up walking upstairs more civilly till Maurizio left the pair to head to his own bedroom.

"Are your feet tired?" Angelus asked Elizabeth as he walked her to her door. "If not, I still haven't fulfilled my promise," he smiled gently.

Elizabeth turned and looked up at Angelus with a smile, "I don't think I will ever get tired."

"Good night, my sweet Lizzy," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her.

Raising a hand, she gently held his face before he pulled away. "Good night," she said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translation**  
>  _M'aide-moi!_ _-_ Help me!  
>  _Monsieur, vous devez venir avec nous -_ Sir, you need to come with us  
>  _Vous avez pas vraiment été invitée. -_ You weren't really invited.  
>  _Fiche le camp d'ici! -_ Get the hell out of here!


	36. Day 41: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

Drusilla had woken early that Christmas morning, carefully creeping out of bed and sneaking into Elizabeth's room as she slept. She left a stuffed stocking in her shoe, filled with an apple, an orange, and some nuts, things she had been familiar with growing up in a meager and poor household. After slipping back into her room, she quietly dressed and headed out, leaving Spike to wake up hours later in the late morning alone.

"Dru…?" he said sleepily as he raised his head. He slumped back down in the sheets and rolled to the side, forcing himself off the mattress to see where his lover had gone.

┼†‡

As Elizabeth got ready for the day, she was surprised to find the little bundle. She smiled as she untied the knot and carefully slid the contents out onto her bed. These were not things she was used to receiving on Christmas day. Growing up as a child, she was given handmade dolls and extravagantly detailed doll houses, carved wooden horses, and clockwork toys. These small items of fruits and nuts, though hardly comparable to the likes of what she had received in her youth, held more meaning to them than all her past gifts combined. There was love and care with these precious few items that Drusilla had selected, and Elizabeth would treasure them with each slow bite.

She set them aside on her nightstand before kneeling down on the floor by her bedside, hunching forward on her hands as she pulled out her safely guarded presents from beneath her bed. She examined each wrapped parcel with care, ensuring that the ribbons weren't flat and crushed. Feeling satisfied, she decided she would give Drusilla and her sire their gifts that morning. However, she would reserve the most important gift for her love, Angelus, in private, when they had some time together alone. She replaced Angelus' present underneath her bed and took the other two items in her arms, suddenly being reminded of another gift that lay hidden in her room. It was not one of hers, but it had been left by a surreptitious interloper from three days past.

Elizabeth turned her head to glance at the lone vase in the corner of her room.

She could not be blamed for her growing curiosity; her sire had all but intruded into her room without her presence and without valid explanation. She bit her lip as she stood idly for a brief moment before setting the gifts down on her bed and approaching the vase.

She took a small breath as she paused in front of it, her conscience reminding her it wasn't her place to go poking into others' personal affairs, even if it was a man like her sire. But at the same time, because it was her sire, she almost felt it fair for her to do so. How many times did he meddle with private life? Far too many for her to count. With her back straightened and her chin raised in defiance, Elizabeth snatched the dried flowers out and tipped the heavy vase towards her.

The sound of something sliding and hitting porcelain clanged as Elizabeth peered inside. It was dark, but she could remotely make out the form of a small dark box at the bottom. Standing on tiptoe, she slid her arm in, pressing the heavy fixture to her chest as she blindly scratched for the mysterious box. When she felt it secured in her grasp, she heaved the vase back on its base.

The item in question was encased in brown leather, small enough to fit on her palm. Elizabeth eyed it as she held it up in front of her, recalling catching a glimpse of it concealed in her sire's hand when he had been shuffling about her room that night. With such a distinct enclosure, she presumed she knew her sire well enough to know where his thoughts led. She only hoped he had made a sound choice if she wasn't there to give him some suggestions.

Finally holding the top lid with her other hand, she slowly and carefully pried it open. Elizabeth's eyes widened with surprised.

┼†‡

The manor was alive with festivity, and the smells of freshly baked sweets and savoury dishes wafted through the air.

Elizabeth exited her room with her gifts in arms, in search for her sire and grandsire. A cheery smile was affixed to her lips as she hummed 'Up on a Housetop'.

Spike weaved his fingers into his matted hair and ruffled it about, untangling small knots and making his unruly mop a little neater. He spotted Elizabeth heading down the hall as he shut his bedroom door behind him.

"You're in a cheery mood this morning," he observed, noting the amount of humming she was doing.

Elizabeth stopped mid stride to turn to her sire and merely smiled. She had replaced his secret gift for Drusilla back into the vase and ensured the flowers were just as tidy.

"What's that you've got in your hands?" he asked, curious to see the brightly coloured parcels.

"Presents. One for Drusilla, and one for you, actually. I was just looking for you."

He was genuinely surprised, "You got a gift. For me?" Considering all the rude and unnecessary comments he had made, and the hellish things he had put her through, she had still happened to get him a Christmas present. But he was her sire after all; it was a given, he rationalised.

Elizabeth slipped the smaller item out towards him from above the larger and clunkier shaped one, "Merry Christmas," she said with a smile as she handed it to him.

Something that resembled a wry smile glimmered across Spike's face as he looked down at it, "A bit small, isn't it?" He glanced back up at her and eyed the much larger one she was hefting around for Drusilla.

Elizabeth chuckled and shook her head, "Considering I did not know what to get you?" From the likes of him, it was a response she was already expecting. "Would you like to help me look for Drusilla?"

"I was just about to look for her right now," he said, starting to walk alongside her as he fiddled with his wrapping.

"I hope that she likes her present," Elizabeth glanced down at the package in her arms and adjusted the ribbon.

"She's been disappearing an awful lot lately," Spike commented absently, more to himself than to Elizabeth.

┼†‡

They headed downstairs and were greeted by some of the maids, wishing them a 'Joyeux Noël'. Spike merely nodded in reply, not wanting to have to wish all the staff merry Christmases whenever they happened to bump into one.

"Merry Christmas, Mademoiselle, Monsieur," one of the kitchen staff that had helped Elizabeth and Drusilla with their baked goods greeted them. "Would you care for a breakfast while you wait for dinner?" she asked.

Spike turned to see that there was a nativity scene set up by the entry hall and took a step closer to see a doll sized baby Jesus in the manger. He toed it with his shoe.

"None for me, thank you. We are, however, looking for Drusilla. Have you seen her?" Elizabeth asked kindly.

"The other Mademoiselle? I believe someone saw her leaving earlier this morning, but she hasn't returned," the maid replied.

"This early in the morning?" Spike turned to look at them as he overheard them speaking.

The maid glanced at the man as he strut forward towards the door. She looked back to Elizabeth, "Let us know if there is anything you need from the kitchen," she gave a small curtsy before leaving.

Spike was careful to mind the sunlight as he peeked out the windows. He squinted when he noticed some grey overcast in the sky, "I hope she's well covered," he commented. Though he did recall Drusilla mentioning that overcast didn't cause the demise of a vampire so much as it stung like beesting. "Huh," he pondered this. He placed his hand on the door handle before turning it and paused.

Elizabeth watched her sire from behind with some concern and took a few steps forward.

Drawing a small breath, Spike pulled the door open and almost jumped a bit to see Drusilla standing just outside. "Dru!" he cried, startled, surprised, and happy; Elizabeth breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Drusilla lowered her cape and walked in as she smiled at him, "What a greeting to come home to," she giggled, coming forward to kiss him on the lips.

"Where did you go, love? I was just about to look for you," Spike said.

"I went to feed the chicken," she replied absently, still walking forward slowly to glance at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth found her statement odd, but she simply shook it off and smiled at her, "Well, now that I have found the both of you, Merry Christmas, grandmother," she said as she held out her gift to her.

"For me?" Drusilla gasped as she looked at the mysterious item in Elizabeth's hands. She started to giggle like an excited child as she took it from her, "Merry Christmas, granddaughter!" she said happily.

"Why don't we find a more suitable place where you can open it, love?" Spike suggested.

Drusilla nodded eagerly as Spike led her into the parlour; Elizabeth followed slowly from behind.

Once there, Drusilla flopped down on the sofa and set her present on top of her lap before yanking at the ribbon and mercilessly tearing the packaging paper apart. Spike watched with amusement from beside her, leaving his gift wrapped within his hands. When it was revealed that it was a small rocking chair, Drusilla looked at it expressionlessly.

Elizabeth froze in her armchair where she sat across from Drusilla. She had hoped her grandsire would like her gift, but with her blank expression, she was afraid that she didn't. Elizabeth closed her eyes.

Spike waited for Drusilla to react when all she did was stare at the wooden toy. He glanced to Elizabeth- who looked like she was about to have a heart attack- before looking back to his lover, "What… do you think of the gift, pet?"

"I'm much too big to fit in this," she replied absently, her brows stitching upward ever so slightly, "I'll need to borrow Alice's potion."

Spike started to laugh softly, amused that she actually thought it was for herself. Elizabeth fluttered her eyes open and raised her head as she looked across at them, realising the folly of her own insecurities.

Drusilla glanced up at Spike, "Or perhaps hack off me legs and squeeze me into a tighter corset," she suggested innocently.

"No, love, no hacking necessary. You're not minutely rotund."

"Have I become a giant?" she frowned, her imagination now taking her into a different tangent altogether.

Spike shook his head as he tried to reassure her, "It's not meant for you to sit in. It's for your dolls- Miss Edith and Miss Corrine."

She looked back down at the chair as a slow smile spread across her face in realisation, "Oh!"

Spike pulled in to give her a kiss on her cheek.

"I adore it! Thank you, granddaughter. Miss Edith and Miss Corrine will be fighting over who will get to sit in it first," she giggled.

With a good natured giggle replacing her frown, Elizabeth nodded, "I am sure they can take turns. I am glad you like it, grandmother. Now," she turned to her sire with a smile, "it's your turn." Despite their differences, she hoped that he would appreciate it, considering she took time looking for a good enough quill set for him.

Drusilla set the chair on the floor and gave it a soft nudge and watched it rock as she giggled.

"I suppose it is," Spike sighed a little as he looked to Elizabeth. He felt a little odd having to open a gift in front of her as she watched; he hadn't had this much attention doing that since he was a boy. Tearing the parchment paper away, he was left to see the top of an ornate box beneath. He pulled it out and cast the paper aside onto the floor as he set it down onto his lap, then opened the lid. His eyes widened slightly, seeing that it was a calligraphy set- feather quill, ink, several different nibs, and even some wax for sealing. He didn't know what to say. "This… is extremely thoughtful…," Spike replied a little more quietly, his gaze cast downward at his gift. He shut the lid after a brief pause and looked up at her, "A little old fashioned, though. I've resorted to using fountain pens," he smirked.

Elizabeth returned the little smirk with a small shake of her head, as if she had expected that sort of response, "Perhaps, but these tend to leak less. One false move with a pen and many things can be ruined," she spoke as if she knew from experience.

"Not likely you'll be seeing me with a quill in my breast pocket. It's not very convenient, is it?" he continued.

Elizabeth fought the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she shook her head and gave a small shrug of her shoulders.

Spike got up, "Let me put that away for you, love," he said, taking ahold of the toy furniture.

Drusilla gave a simple nod as she peered up at him and watched as he left the room.

Allowing her gaze to settle away from them, Elizabeth's eyes trailed towards the window as she sat in wait, quietly anticipating the moment she would be alone with Angelus.

┼†‡

Spike was quick to put away their gifts before he slipped back into Elizabeth's room, fetching the item he had hidden away in her vase. Dusting off the box, he opened the lid and checked inside it once more before burying it deep within his inner coat pocket.

┼†‡

"Did Father Christmas leave a gift behind for you this morning?" Drusilla giggled.

Elizabeth turned to her with a smile, "He did." She looked at her with a loving fondness, appreciative that it was her that had left those items for her. Though throughout this, at the back of her mind, Elizabeth wondered where Angelus was. It was barely past noon, but she was already starting to get anxious about giving him his present. She quietly drummed her fingers on her knee to preoccupy her listlessness.

"Were you a good girl this year? Or a bad girl?" Drusilla continued, circling her finger in the air at her.

"She's been a good girl," Angelus said as he entered the parlour.

Elizabeth turned and looked up at him in happy surprise.

Walking behind Elizabeth's chair, Angelus ducked low in passing and whispered by her ear in a lowered voice, "Mostly."

A shiver ran down Elizabeth's spine and she resisted the urge to crane her neck as she felt the air from his breath against her skin. She cast her eyes down and ran her teeth over her lip slightly, but refrained from her nervous habit of biting down.

Drusilla covered her mouth with both hands as she giggled at them.

Glancing up, Elizabeth shared a smile at Angelus as he crossed the room.

"What's this? Have you already opened presents?" Angelus observed the discarded paper on the floor as he walked over to the sofa and sat next to Drusilla.

"We did," Drusilla beamed happily. "Granddaughter got me a lovely rocking chair for Miss Edith and Miss Corrine. They shall be up all day making noises in that."

"That's nice to hear," Angelus glanced over at Elizabeth and smiled.

Spike walked into the room to see his family gathered together, "Seems we're all here," he commented absently. He sat down on Drusilla's other side.

"Oh!" she suddenly sprang up, leaving Spike to look up her in confusion, "I've just remembered! No one move a muscle," she wagged a stern finger at each of them before trotting off.

Reluctantly obeying his lover's words, Spike remained on the sofa next to Angelus. "SO," he said, after a short and awkward pause, "kill anyone exciting lately?" he looked over at his sire. Considering all the times he and Elizabeth had been running around looking them, he had no idea what sorts of things Angelus and Drusilla had been up to. Nor did he understand all this secrecy and not killing their human host. It was unlike his sire to hold off for so long; it was almost unbecoming of him.

"A little here an' there," Angelus shrugged indifferently as he crossed his legs and reclined back. "Elizabeth here has been getting better with her nightly prowls," he smiled and nodded at her from across the way.

Spike glanced towards her, "So I've heard." It was at that moment he had realised that perhaps Angelus had become her sire instead of him. He'd never really treated her with the type of mentorship Angelus had, and he supposed that they now stood at a somewhat level ground. It was an odd feeling to suddenly realise this.

"I've returned!" Drusilla announced loudly as she sauntered in, her arms behind her back.

Spike smiled up at her, "Have you got something there, love?"

"I do," she sang happily, "one for each of you." Drusilla glided forward and handed each one a card, "I drew 'em meself," she said proudly.

"It's… it's not really a Christmas themed card, though, is it, love?" Spike observed the semi-realistic and bloody heart drawn on his.

"I think it's fitting," Angelus commented.

Spike glanced over at his, seeing a sword with blood dripping down its blade. It was a little crude and no way comparable to Angelus' skills, but there was something about her illustrations that were a little more practised.

"'Course they are!" Drusilla cried. "It's red, just like Father Christmas' suit," she pointed at Spike's. "And there are holly berries there," she indicated the three droplets of blood that had dripped off from the blade in Angelus' image.

"What of you, Elizabeth?" Spike asked, looking over to her. "Just as festive?" he said with sarcasm.

"Granddaughter has the most special one of them all," Drusilla said, moving over to her and hugging her from the side. On Elizabeth's card, Drusilla had drawn a dead bird lying on its back with broken wings. "The birdy's makin' snow angels," Drusilla smiled as she squeezed her closer, glancing happily down at the card in her hand.

Elizabeth kept her head bowed as she looked at the image. With a small and intrigued smile, she ran a finger over the drawing and nodded quietly. It put her at a little unease since it was also Drusilla's nickname for her.

"It is very well done," she said as she continued to look it over. She turned to her grandsire with a smile, "I love it."

"Do you?" Drusilla looked at her lovingly. "I knew you would!" she giggled happily, giving her a kiss on the forehead before embracing her once more. Elizabeth giggled back and returned the hug with just as much affection.

"Is that… real blood?" Spike asked as he looked down at his card.

"It is," Drusilla replied, turning to him. She hopped off from the armrest and walked over to Spike, nestling down close to his side as she rested her head against his shoulder, "Adds a little realism, don't you think?"

Spike wrapped his arm around her shoulders, "It does. I love it; it's beautiful." He peered over her head and smiled, "Is it supposed to be my heart?" he asked with amusement.

Drusilla giggled and shook her head, "Couldn't be, silly. It's not warm."

The two cuddled close and snuggled against each other as they whispered lovingly into each other's ears and giggled.

Angelus stood from the sofa and slowly walked away. Passing behind Elizabeth's armchair, he softly dragged his fingers through her hair that lay hanging over the backrest. Elizabeth shivered again. The gentle tug on her scalp created a pleasant sensation that made its way down the length of her body, reawakening that sudden feeling that drew her attention beneath her skirts. She drew a shaky breath and only craved more.

There came a sudden knock at the door.

Elizabeth almost jumped as she sat staunch in her seat.

"Excuse me, Monsieurs and Mademoiselles, Christmas dinner is about to be served," the maid announced.

"Oh!" Drusilla hopped up again, abruptly untangling herself from Spike, "I've almost forgot!" She started to take off as she mumbled to herself, "The Christmas crackers!"

Spike watched her go with a soft sigh, finding her endearing and almost too volatile at times. There were moments when he didn't know what to do with her.

Angelus offered his arm to Elizabeth as she continued to collect her bearings, "In the meantime, let's get seated. William and Drusilla will join us later," he smiled.

Elizabeth shyly beamed at him and nodded as she took his arm.

┼†‡

Once they were out of earshot, Elizabeth whispered, "Can you meet me in the library after dinner?" her glowing blush stubbornly persistent as she asked with a timidity she only reserved for him.

"Do you have a surprise for me?" he teased softly as a smile pulled at his lips.

Elizabeth looked up at him and nodded.

"I'd love to," he whispered, leaning in closer towards her and lowering his head as his thumb traced patterns over the top of her hand. He managed to steal a quiet kiss from her in the hallway without any prying eyes, enough to cause her to raise her brows in surprise, but not long enough to elicit a pleasurable moan. At the sound of Drusilla coming down the stairs, he pulled back and smiled at her secretively and resumed their walk towards the dining room. Elizabeth now blushed for an entirely different reason.

┼†‡

Spike and Drusilla soon caught up from behind, holding the Christmas crackers she had been so excited to fetch. As they entered the dining room, they found Maurizio already seated at the head of the table.

He stood up immediately, "Merry Christmas to you all," he greeted happily, though his smile seemed a little forced when he looked over to Spike and Drusilla.

"Merry Christmas, Maurizio," Angelus replied in kind.

Spike pulled out Drusilla's chair for her, as did Angelus for Elizabeth. Once the women were comfortably seated, the men followed suit. They were arranged with the two women sitting adjacently from the head of the table where Maurizio presided. Spike naturally sat next to Drusilla, but this time, he faced Angelus.

They waited as their food was brought out to them, but Spike was more eager when their wine glasses were being filled.

"The Christmas crackers!" Drusilla cried as soon as the servants had filed out. She began to hand one to each of them.

" _Cosaques?_ " Maurizio smiled with amusement as he looked at the tubular parcel in his hand.

"It's become a bit of a traditional thing before Christmas where we're from. It'd mean a lot to Drusilla if we all participated," Angelus explained.

"Of course," Maurizio smiled at her. "What do we do?" he turned back to Angelus.

"It usually requires two people. Each person holds firm at one end and tugs. Whoever gets the longer end wins the treats inside," Angelus continued.

Spike sipped at his wine and gave a little chuckle as he set it down, "I bet the dandy there is just waitin' for you to tug on his cracker," he smirked across at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth shot him a quick glare, not realising the sexual implication of his words.

"Wish Darla were here now, don't you, Angelus? No one to share a firm grip and a hard pull but yourself, hmm?" Spike continued, smiling across at his sire.

"Nonsense, William, we've got a full table. We can make a circle and share them between us," Drusilla reasoned, sounding partially lucid.

Elizabeth turned to her with a smile, "I think that's a splendid idea."

Spike pulled a face, a little reluctant at the idea that Drusilla would have to share one with Maurizio.

"Please, my love?" Drusilla asked sweetly, her brows turning upwards into a slight frown.

"Oh, all right," he sighed.

She giggled and turned back to the task at hand as she showed Maurizio to cross his arms over like she did before gripping on both ends of the crackers and yanking. Small snaps cascaded in quick successions as little wrapped sweets of bonbons and nougats tumbled out. Drusilla giggled happily like a child, more excited at the popping sounds than the actual treats.

"How very festive," Maurizio laughed. "I shall have to get these for more occasions."

"It is quite fun, isn't it?" Elizabeth asked with a delighted laugh, setting aside her winnings.

"It does set a precedent tone to the occasion," Maurizio said with a bemused smile as he looked to her.

"Are you glad you decided to stay for the holiday?" Angelus asked.

"Yes, it has been a much warmer and livelier year," Maurizio agreed, setting down his wineglass after taking a sip. "Had you not kept me company, I'd have set out on another business venture as I've been doing the past several years. I admit, that even though work keeps me preoccupied, it does get lonely at times," he revealed, giving a mocking sigh as he teased himself; he smiled at his two friends, allowing his other guests to do as they pleased as they entertained themselves in their own little world.

┼†‡

Spike watched as Drusilla jabbed her knife at the shell of her escargot, only to have it swirl and slip around on her plate.

"Allow me, love," Spike said, taking up the small pronged fork and skewering out the meaty piece of flesh inside. He held it up to her mouth as she placed it in her mouth and slowly pulled it clean.

"Mm," she moaned as she stared at him and began to chew, "delicious," she smiled.

"Have you ever had escargot before?" he asked.

"No," Drusilla shook her head, "they were too expensive. Besides, mummy always scoffed about the French eatin' insects. Coulda had 'em for free by just scrapin' 'em off the garden wall."

Spike watched her with amusement as the servants removed their plates and set down their entrees. "What did you usually have for Christmas dinner?" he asked curiously, wondering more about her previous life as he cut into the piece of meat on his plate.

"Stewed rabbit," Drusilla replied, scraping the tines of the fork through the gravy and red sauce. "Couldn't hop away fast enough into its rabbit hole. Hopped straight into our tummies," she rambled.

"Try some of the fowl, pet," he said as he chewed, "you'll like it."

"It sits in a puddle of blood."

"No, it's a cranberry sauce, I think. It's sweet and a little tart, like you," he smiled.

Drusilla giggled and cut a small piece off to try; it was a rare moment to actually see her eating normally. "Roasted chicken?" she pondered.

"I believe it's goose. I'd have it every year with Mother," he chuckled a bit as he reminisced. "It was a little ridiculous to think we'd share an entire bird just between the two of us, but Mother would feed the keep once we were done."

┼†‡

As Elizabeth half listened to the conversations around her, she thought back to the Christmases she had when she was a girl. The decorations that Maurizio had in his manor were lovely and charming, but she found them incomparable to her home. There, she felt an undeniable air of festivity and a strong presence of the Christmas spirit. She could almost smell the pine needles from the tree that stood in their parlour, and the long greenery of garland that lay tacked from the ceilings from each hallway. Their parties were also no exception. Soft glowing candlelight seemed to attract people as they gathered there for the joyous occasion and food and drink. Even her father, as serious and stern as he was, would show a softer, more unhinged side of him. She could almost hear his voice calling out to his mother to dance with him. She smiled at that as she chewed her food.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she tried to be present for conversation. "It is very nice to be among friends for Christmas. I was almost afraid I wasn't going to have one this year, being away from home and all," she said with a smile at Angelus.

Angelus returned her smile and took a sip of wine.

Elizabeth turned back to look at her host.

"I agree, it is nice to be amongst friends," Maurizio nodded. "Is this your first Christmas away from home? Your family must be thinking about you on this day, away with strange company," he laughed.

With a bittersweet smile, she nodded, "I'm sure they are," she said softly. She took a swallow of wine.

"She is in good hands," Angelus smiled at his friend as he placed his hand over Elizabeth's knee underneath the table. Elizabeth looked to him with warmth and appreciation, taking comfort in the gesture of his touch.

┼†‡

Not understanding the conversations that were taking place across the table, or enough to care, Spike continued to devote his attention to his lover.

"Just last Christmas, we had one almost twice the size as the previous year," he smiled, "we almost made a mess of it on the floor," he laughed.

"You would have been slidin' it its juices," Drusilla smiled at him.

"'Course, that was when she was still well," he sighed, taking a swallow of his wine. He grimaced as he watched the liquid wash back down along the sides of the glass and felt the undeniable clench in his chest.

"Oh, God," he whispered quietly. As much as he tried to push it away, the current of his emotions were breaking down his mental dam. He missed her. It was his first Christmas without her, and he missed her like a man who needed air. He gulped down the rest of his wine and indicated to one of the waiting servants that he needed a refill. As she began to pour, Spike pulled the bottle from her grasp, "Let me, love."

The maid made a sound of alarm and backed away, unsure of what to do as she watched the disgruntled man fill the glass till it was almost to the brim.

Elizabeth peered across the table. Knitting her brows together, she observed the curious sight of her sire. He not only appeared vexed, but a little panicked, she noted.

Still clinging to the bottle, Spike lifted the glass and finished it off in one motion before wiping off his mouth with his sleeve. He burped loudly and turned to Drusilla as he laughed.

Maurizio was not impressed with his crude behaviour.

The maid hesitantly moved forward to retrieve the bottle from him, but he shrugged her off, "No need, pet. I've found a new glass." He motioned with his hand to scamper off as he took to nursing directly from it.

Elizabeth smiled at her apologetically and only shook her head in silence as a means to advise her to leave.

"Already drowning your sorrows, William?" Angelus commented disapprovingly across from him.

"Actually, no. I'm in high spirits," he grinned. "Neigh," he corrected, lifting a finger, "haven't quite been visited from my three Christmas spooks, yet. I suppose I should be more of a Scrooge and furrow my brow at every opportune moment. Kinda like you," he cackled.

Looking at her sire, Elizabeth spoke, "Now, I don't think that is necessary. You are enough of a grouch as it is," she teased.

"Always quick to defend your precious _sire,_ " Spike said with vitriol. "You think he'd do the same for you?" he scoffed. He reclined his head and swigged deeply.

Elizabeth's back straightened and her shoulders squared, "That's enough," she said with rising anger, trying at her best efforts to calm herself down.

"Please, William, can we have one dinner without you spoiling it?" Angelus sighed. "My apologies, Maurizio," Angelus said, turning to their host.

"What is it with you, anyway?" Spike continued as he pointed between them. "Hasn't this bloody charade gone on long enough? I'm _really_ hankering for a bit of blood on my hands. These knuckles have barely kissed another man's jaws since that last time-"

"When you almost got killed and had Drusilla cradle you back in her arms?" Angelus interjected.

Spike narrowed his eyes at him before carrying on, "Edgar's was too short and swift. I feel like I need to earn a little work this round," he chuckled, taking another swig.

Elizabeth's hardened expression instantly transformed to one of surprise. With his cryptic confession, it became apparent to her what he had done at the end of his reunion with his friend.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you think I was going to let him go scot-free?" Spike said as he raised his brows at Elizabeth. "You should know me by now; that's not likely to happen," he giggled.

It was with little relief that she learned that they were dead. At least her family would never know about her current existence or come looking for her. Turning to Maurizio, she spoke, "I am deeply sorry about this. This was turning out to be such a lovely evening."

Spike swept a side glance at her as he continued to drink.

"No, it's all right," Maurizio waved his hand at her in hopes to calm her down, "as host, I should be the one who should be ensuring everyone is content. Your friend appears to be in a foul mood. Please, shall we move on to another topic? If the dinner isn't of to your taste, we can move to the parlour onto different activities," he suggested, trying to be hospitable to all his guests as the hostility and animosity around them grew thicker.

"God, he really is a dandy," Spike snorted, "always trying to play nice and fair. No wonder he's having a hard time pinning down a woman." He could almost attest to that, seeing how he'd never much raised his voice as a man, therefore committing himself to a life of loneliness. He found it humourous that after being reborn, he pushed himself to be heard without care, and now had heads turning, in addition to Drusilla's.

Elizabeth turned to her sire with a glare, "Leave him be."

"End this conversation now, William, or excuse yourself from the table," Angelus warned.

Spike directed his glare from his progeny to his sire and scoffed as he screwed his face up, "Who are you? My father? No, thanks," he rolled his eyes as he continued to drink.

"You're drunk. Leave now before you embarrass yourself further."

Spike blinked several times in mock surprise, "'Embarrassed'? I ain't embarrassed, mate," he laughed, "I'm elated! It's bloody Christmas! Got to tug on my Christmas cracker and spilt its contents all over the table. Oh, yeah, grand ol' fun," he smirked.

Angelus sighed and turned to Maurizio as he stood, "I think it's best if we relocated to the parlour. William will join us later when he's ready to." Angelus shot another disapproving glance at his grandprogeny as he led Elizabeth out with him, "Come, Elizabeth."

"A capital idea," she said with a small look of relief.

"Aw, c'mon, now! Can't bother with a little teasing and banter?" Spike hollered out after them. "Fine! It's better this way! You're all boring anyhow! The whole lot of you!"

┼†‡

Sitting in the parlour, Elizabeth sighed in relief and looked out the window with a little anticipation. She hoped that after they spent some time with their host, she could give Angelus his surprise present.

"Is he… quite all right?" Maurizio asked.

"You've seen how he's behaved before, Maurizio, that's just his regular temperament, unfortunately," Angelus sighed. "My apologies, again. Your dinner was wonderful. Don't think that his ill humour had anything to do with your participation in any of it."

"I am beginning to understand a bit, I believe," Maurizio replied with a small nod. "Though, I do wonder still what he was doing outside of the party the other night. He wasn't given an invitation, if I recall."

"I think he believed that he had, but learnt that it was all a misunderstanding," Angelus was quick to justify.

Elizabeth shook her head with a sigh, "He has his moments. There have been times when he and I were good friends," she said with a little bit of fondness. After all, she had considered him her only friend until they had reached Nice.

"From what I gather, you all have a very complex relationship with him," Maurizio said, turning to look at Elizabeth. "Still, he must be very important to you if you so often forgive him for his misgivings. He is fortunate to have you as such loyal friends," he reasoned.

"Hmm," Angelus hummed, settling down on the sofa, "I've often wondered if it would be better to just sever ties with him," he crossed his legs and swiped something off the sleeve of his coat. "I once almost severed his head."

Maurizio stared at him with wide eyes, unable to utter a sound from the shock.

"I jest," Angelus lifted his gaze and smiled at him.

"Oh, of course!" Maurizio began to laugh with him, feeling relieved that he hadn't been serious.

"He's useful at times, when he needs to be," Angelus added with nonchalance.

┼†‡

With Spike and Drusilla left alone in the dining room, Spike continued to drink till he had emptied the bottle. "I'd like a refill, please!" Spike called out loudly to one of the servants as he tapped at the side of the glass.

A maid moved aside to fetch another bottle.

"You having fun, love?" Spike asked, turning to glance at Drusilla.

Drusilla splattered some of the cranberry sauce across the linen tablecloth like it was blood spatter, "All out in a row like waddling little ducklings after their mother," she mumbled, not looking at him.

"What is it, Dru? Why do you look so upset?"

She turned to him with a pout and a look of disappointment, "You've scared Daddy and granddaughter away."

The maid set the bottle down by Spike and retreated.

"No, Angelus chose to leave," he said in his defense.

"Because you wouldn't stop dribbling from your mouth," she pouted.

"Please, not you, too, Dru," Spike sighed, returning her expression.

"I wanted us all to share a happy family meal, altogether," she frowned.

"Not really much of a family," Spike scoffed, taking a swig of his new bottle. "Don't need 'em here, anyway."

Drusilla stood from her seat and began to walk away.

"Wait- Drusilla!" Spike hastened to scramble up after her, "I didn't mean you!"

She turned around to face him, her frown deepening.

"I'm sorry, love; forgive me. I understand how important they mean to you, I just…," he shook his head and glanced down. "How did you manage to do it, Dru?" he asked a little more quietly. "All I'm reminded of is how unbearable it is," he said as he lifted his gaze to her and clenched at his chest.

He sank to his knees and hugged her as he pressed his head against her stomach, "Did you ever forgive him for what he did?" he asked softly.

Drusilla stroked the back of his head like a mother comforting her child, "Never," the quirk of a bittersweet smile at the corner of her lips.

With her reply, he knew the answer to his own question: he'd never forgive himself for what he had done to his own mother. He'd bury those memories as deep as he possibly could, like the underground Parisien dungeons, and never allow them to see the light of day- or moonlight. He'd learn to forget, or if he couldn't, he'd force himself to.

┼†‡

"Well, pardon me for venturing into such unstately topics,"Maurizio began. "Let us move on to something more lively as a means of entertainment. Do you perhaps sing or play the piano, Elizabeth? I have one in the drawing room," he suggested.

Elizabeth raised her brows and smiled humbly, "I do sing, but piano… I took lessons as a girl, but was not well at it," she said with a little laugh. "My tutor was ever so frustrated. I managed to play some slow songs with some proficiency, but she said they reminded her of funerals," she said with another laugh.

"So you sing," Maurizio brightened at the news. "If you do not mind, might I accompany you at the piano? Please," he offered his arm to her.

"With pleasure," Elizabeth smiled and took his arm.

Angelus smirked as he watched them trail out, then stood and followed behind them.

┼†‡

Drusilla lowered herself and cradled Spike's head against her shoulder as she rocked him, "Shh… my sweet William. Let the wounds fester and flesh rot from the bones. Maggots will make a pretty meal out of you," she kissed him on the forehead.

Even with Drusilla's psychobabble, Spike took some comfort from it. "You know what would really make me feel better?" he lifted his eyes as he peered up at her.

"Hmm?" she mewled innocently as she looked back at him.

He straightened himself up as he loomed over her, pressing his forehead against hers as his hands glided over her hips and up towards her chest, "A little rough and tumble. It'd be a nice way to give this stale blood in me a quick jolt," he yanked her towards his body at the last word. Drusilla began to giggle and playfully growled as she snapped at his ear.

Spike peered over her shoulder to see that the maids were still idling in the room, but had turned their heads away in embarrassment. "Want a show?" he growled. "Allow yourselves the rest of the night off!" he waved his hand at them. They lowered their burning faces and quickly walked out.

"Now, where were we?" Spike grinned at Drusilla and pulled her down to the floor.

┼†‡

Stealing a glance at Angelus, Elizabeth smiled as she stood by the piano. "What would you like to have me sing?" she looked to her host, then back to her mentor, unable to hide her nervousness.

Angelus quietly settled down on the sofa across from them and watched, giving Elizabeth an encouraging smile.

Maurizio positioned himself at the grand piano, "How about something that fits the occasion? Something spirited and Christmas themed would be suitable."

Elizabeth gave it a brief thought, "'O Holy Night'? That was the first song that came to mind." It was something her mother sang at Christmas, a song she had taught her to sing. "I would think that 'Up on the Housetop' would be a bit childish," she thought out loud, feeling insecure of her childhood favourites. She wanted to be seen as a woman, not a juvenile girl.

Maurizio smiled broadly at her, "Whatever you wish. That is a lovely suggestion, though I'm not so familiar with the second carol," he replied. "Shall we start with 'O Holy Night' first? You may need to help me with the other one," he smiled. Placing his fingers on the appropriate keys, he slowly began to play out the chords.

┼†‡

"Mm… I hear music," Drusilla moaned underneath Spike.

Even though he would have likely dismissed it as something that was just in her head, Spike heard it, too. "Are you putting me under some sort of spell, pet?" he asked as he peered down at her. That was until he heard the singing. "Bloody Christmas carols," he growled as he thrusted with more vigour.

Drusilla moaned louder.

┼†‡

As she sang, Elizabeth's voice was soft yet clear, carrying each note gracefully in tune with the piano accompaniment. Singing was one of the few things she excelled at, but it was mostly due to the fact that she enjoyed it. When the song ended, she smiled brightly, having conquered her stage fright.

Maurizio pulled his hands away from the keys and applauded with enthusiasm, "Bravo! That was exquisite!" he beamed.

Angelus also shared his applause, but with less gusto, "You sing beautifully, Elizabeth," he smiled.

Elizabeth smiled at their praise, but seeing that Angelus did not share the other man's enthusiasm caused her smile to shrink.

"Like an angel!" Maurizio cried. "Shall we try the next song? Hum the melody for me a little. I'll follow after with the chords," he smiled as he turned back to the piano.

Elizabeth nodded and hummed, only to sing when he caught on and began to play. It was a cheery song that Elizabeth loved as a child, and it showed in her youthful face.

┼†‡

Drusilla and Spike's love making had lasted throughout the duration of the last song. When the music had stopped, Spike was relieved to just hear the sound of their own voices. Then Elizabeth started to sing again. He groaned and he hung his head as Drusilla giggled at him.

Her eyes brightened at the sound of the piano accompanying Elizabeth's voice, "I want to join them."

Spike shook his head, "No, no, not till we're finished."

She clamped her hands onto his shoulders as she rolled them around; she now sat on top.

"Almost?" she rode him as she bit down on her bottom lip.

Spike clutched at her hips, "No," he gasped.

She quickened her pace and elicited a moan from him. "Are we there, yet?" she continued to prod him.

"No… oh, no…," he moaned, feeling his climax coming.

"And now…?" Drusilla peered down at him.

Spike bucked forward and grasped at her hips, "Yes, God, yes!" he moaned.

Drusilla gave a small giggle as she leaned over and kissed him on the nose before crawling off.

Spike watched her from the floor as she got up, then pushed himself up and tucked himself away.

┼†‡

Following her out into the drawing room, he straightened his attire and hair as he caught the end of Elizabeth's singing.

Drusilla clapped and gave a little hop, "Sing it again, sing it again!" she chirped.

Elizabeth turned to her with a smile, "Perhaps one more song," she said as she glanced to Angelus with a hopeful smile.

Spike sighed and glanced to the side.

"Finally decided to join us, William?" Angelus commented.

"We were too busy doin' some singin' of our own," he sneered. "When's the last time you made a bird sing?" he scoffed.

Elizabeth flushed a little at the vulgarity of her sire's innuendo, though the directed comment at Angelus was lost to her.

"I'd like to make a bird sing," Drusilla turned to Spike and pouted.

Elizabeth cleared her throat to draw attention away from the growing chaos, "What should I sing?" she asked the room.

Drusilla clapped her hands merrily as Elizabeth acquiesced to her request.

Maurizio glanced to the two recent additions to the room, "Will there be a problem?" he asked a little quietly, turning to Angelus.

"Things seem to be under control, now," Angelus assured him with a smile before glancing at Elizabeth with a small nod.

"Would you play 'O Come All Ye Faithful', granddaughter? It would be glorious if you did," Drusilla asked, coming forward to clasp her forearm.

Spike let out a sigh as he wandered over to a solitary armchair and flopped down. He'd allow his love the moment to be entertained for a little while, but then he had other plans with her.

Elizabeth smiled with a nod, "Of course," she said happily.

As the piano began to play and Elizabeth began to sing, Drusilla drifted from her arm and closed her eyes as she swayed to the music. She hummed along as she twirled about the room, lifting her arms every now and then with the swelling of the melody. Folding her arms over her chest, she held herself as she swayed back and forth as the song came to a close; her face was slightly tilted skyward. She opened her eyes as she faced the window and remained motionless.

Maurizio turned from the piano and faced Elizabeth, "That was splendid, Elizabeth. Had I known you had the voice of an angel, I'd have asked you to sing for us every night," he laughed.

"Thank you, Maurizio; you're being too kind," she replied humbly. Leaving her position by the piano, Elizabeth moved forward towards Drusilla. It was only when she hugged her that Drusilla seemed to snap out of her trancelike state.

Drusilla touched Elizabeth's arm and smiled as she snuggled her face against her shoulder and pet at her hair, "Merry Christmas, lovey," she said gently, the timbre of her voice unlike the crazed woman that they knew, but more like someone who probably resembled the woman of her former life.

Elizabeth drew back and addressed the room, "I do hope that no one minds, but I think I'll retire for the evening. Merry Christmas, everyone."

"Yes, have a wonderful evening," Maurizio nodded, his smile partially masking his disappointment.

Giving her grandsire another warm smile, Elizabeth finally left the drawing room.

┼†‡

Her calm gait only quickened the more distance she gained. When she reached her room, she pulled Angelus' gift from beneath her bed and headed to the library loft with haste.

Elizabeth sat surrounded with enough candles to light a ballroom and Angelus' precious gift laying across her lap. Fidgeting from her perch, she anxiously waited and chewed on her bottom lip in anticipation.

┼†‡

Angelus and Spike stood from their seats, but for different reasons.

"Do you have some time to spare this evening?" Maurizio asked his friend as he approached him; he closed the piano lid and stood from the bench.

Angelus paused for a split second before answering, "Yes, of course. Is there something you wish to discuss?"

"I generally attend Midnight Mass on the night of Christmas Eve, but seeing as we had attended Pierre's party, I didn't get the chance to. I was wondering if you would all like to join me," he said. "I would have liked to have asked Elizabeth, but it seems she has some more urgent business to attend to," he replied, now disclosing his disappointment.

"Hmm, not at all. I am going to go see to her for a moment any how. I'll let her know," Angelus gave him a reassuring nod and a pat on his arm.

"Thank you, my friend," Maurizio smiled with a slight look of unease.

┼†‡

Angelus left to meet Elizabeth in the library as she had so secretly requested of him. Once there, he followed the glow of the lights from the loft. "Elizabeth?" he called out as he poked his head up from the staircase. "What's with all the mystery and secrecy?" he laughed as he came closer.

Her fingers curled nervously over the edge of the box as she smiled at him, "I wanted to spend at least a little time alone with you tonight,"she giggled. "I… also wanted to give you this," she placed a hand over the surface of the box. "I really hope that you like it," she said softly, her smile small and hopeful.

He glanced down at the item in question, then peered back up at her, "What could this be?" he smiled. Settling down next to her, he slid his present onto his lap. He looked to her once more before glancing down at it and began unwrapping it.

As he lifted the lid, he was met with the glint of metal. He pulled the sword out and cradled it gingerly between both hands, "This has been such an unexpected gift," he said, glancing up at her. "May I?" He stood, letting the box and paper fall to the floor as he unsheathed the blade in one fell swoop; the sound of metal scraped and twanged as it was fully released. He angled it in the candlelight as he admired the quality craftsmanship, "This is wonderful," he said as a small and pertinent tug of his lips pulled upwards. "I would like to see this put to good use one day," he said absently, a little quieter. He replaced the blade back into its scabbard and sat facing Elizabeth, "Thank you, Lizzy. This is wonderful."

"I'm glad you like it," her smile brightened, relieved and happy at the selection she had made. "You look handsome holding it," she added softly, speaking her thoughts out loud before she could stop herself. She immediately started to flush, "I-I mean-"

"I think I look more handsome with you on my arm," Angelus replied, watching her with mild amusement. Holding the sword in one hand, and her hand in the other, Angelus leaned in and kissed her.

Elizabeth felt herself curling forward towards him, tethered by the soft plush of his lips and yet simultaneously lured by the firm and commanding pull of his kiss. She had been anticipating to give Angelus his present, but she had also been sinfully anticipating this. Again, she felt that strange sensation as it dared to take control of her own actions. Elizabeth mewled softly from her throat and pressed her legs together tightly, hoping to keep that growing ember there at bay.

As Angelus drew back, Elizabeth almost followed suit, having to anchor her hand on his shoulder from face planting his chest. "I know our time together has only been so brief tonight, but Maurizio has asked us all if we would like to join him at Mass. I told him I would let you know," he smiled.

Elizabeth managed to straighten herself up with the little dignity she still had, "Whatever you decide," she peered up at him with glazed eyes and rosy cheeks, "I'm fairly flexible."

"Allow me to put this away first, then we can rejoin them," he smiled. He stood with her hand still in his and led her forward.

┼†‡

Enroute to the drawing room, simple piano melodies could be heard as they neared.

Angelus and Elizabeth walked in to see that Drusilla had taken a seat next to Maurizio on the bench as he showed her how to play some notes. "Oh, no, I've got it wrong again!" she cried as she hit the wrong key.

Spike stood by and watched, not liking that she was giving the other man so much attention, "No worries, love. You'll get better with practise," he said encouragingly. Though the sound of the same tune being played over and over for the past ten minutes was starting to grate on him.

She pouted as she watched Maurizio play it once more, then gave it another attempt. Stopping partway through, she turned around to face the other pair, "They don't move when they're told to move! Find us some new ones?" she pouted, extending her arms out towards them like she was a prisoner in cuffs.

Maurizio immediately brightened at the sight of them and replaced the cover on the piano before swivelling around on the bench, "Are we all ready, then?" he asked cheerfully, pulling himself up on his feet.

Spike observed him, "Ready for what?" He turned to Angelus for an answer.

"We're going to attend Mass," Angelus replied.

"Oh, church!" Drusilla hopped up from her seat and clapped her hands with excitement.

"Why the bloody hell would a bunch of vampires want to venture into a church?" Spike scoffed.

"I like the church," Drusilla said, turning to him. "Come, William, it'll be fun," she gently coaxed, tugging him on his arm.

Spike really didn't want to, seeing as it would affect his plans with Drusilla. He sighed, "All right, if you really wish to," he said to her, an easy victim to her whims.

With a thrilled giggle, she hitched her arm through his before pulling him in tow with her and nestling her head against his shoulder.

┼†‡

Having five persons crammed into a carriage was a snug fit. Spike refused to sit next to Maurizio again which only resorted to Elizabeth being wedged between Angelus and Maurizio. Most likely, her thigh pressing against his was a delight for the Frenchman, a thought that Spike left unsaid.

They arrived at a church in Place Rosetti- the Cathédrale Sainte-Réparate- the same one that Spike and Elizabeth had gone to in search for Angelus and Drusilla when they had first arrived in Nice.

Walking in, Maurizio dipped his fingers in holy water stoup by the entrance before crossing himself, then followed through.

Angelus slowly trailed after him as he glanced up at the facade in the near distance. Like Maurizio, he let his fingers graze the surface of the holy water as it began to steam. With his eyes focused on the holy image depicted on the facade, he kissed his fingers with a smirk as he proceeded forward. Spike watched from behind with amusement and dared to do the same. Dunking his index in knuckle deep, he let out a low hiss as the water instantly began to bubble around his finger. When he could no longer stand the pain, he snatched it out and turned to Drusilla with a cackle. Drusilla grinned at him and stepped forward, only to lightly tap at the surface. With a delighted squeal, she snapped her hand back and clutched it to her chest, then crossed herself whilst mumbling something low beneath her breath, followed by a discernible 'amen'.

Watching Drusilla and her sire walk into the church, Elizabeth slowly approached the stoup when it was her turn. She had quietly been observing their actions from a little ways behind, as a small frown obscured her features. It was understandable why her family members held such an aversion to religion, but Elizabeth could not shake it so readily, being ingrained in it in her upbringing, and still feeling so new to her new life. Glancing down at the water, she saw the surface move from being last touched by Drusilla's hand. She drew a breath as she began to pull the fingers of her glove and carefully peeled it away from her bare hand. Being invited to a house of God, Elizabeth thought it only respectable to cleanse her sins, despite it an uncommon practise for her. She lowered her hand to the water, and paused momentarily just above it, before letting her fingertip trace the surface. Mewling with pain, she drew her hand back instantly, feeling like she had been scalded. Her eyes watered, but she quietly held her ground as she replaced the glove on her hand and crossed herself.

Elizabeth was quick to follow inside before she lost her party in the crowd.

┼†‡

Spike and Drusilla had found seats in a pew near the front, away from the others in the next aisle over. Elizabeth sat next to Angelus, close to the middle row, whereas Maurizio unfortunately found himself left alone, adjacent to Angelus in the pew in front of them.

Despite being Christmas, there was a rather large reception that evening. There was some quiet and idle chatter there, but nothing that rose to something like a roar, considering the setting and occasion. The energy of it was more akin to a low hum of anticipation and quietly suppressed devotion, something that Elizabeth shared. She felt excited in her stillness, but her eyes wandered around the high ceilings and walls in wonder.

She had not attended a service in nearly two months, almost the exact amount of time since she had been forced to leave her home for this life she had not chosen. She missed the church and sermons, just like she missed her home and family. Being reminded of her sentiments left her feeling confused. Bittersweet. It seemed to be the only fitting word with all that she had experienced in life, leading up to where she was presently: leaving a home that she loved that didn't understand where her heart lay, and being forced to live a life against all her previous convictions whilst finding actual love. Perhaps it was more bitter in the past than present, Elizabeth reasoned to herself. Things now grew to be sweeter, she thought, tentatively unclasping her hands from her lap and letting the sides of her gloved fingers lightly graze across the top of Angelus' knee towards his hand that lay resting there.

People around her suddenly rose; Elizabeth snapped her hand back like she had been caught. Flushing with quiet embarrassment, Elizabeth also stood, seeing that the priest had entered. He started to speak and offered a prayer before settling everyone back down. Angelus smiled at Elizabeth when he sat. As they listened to the hymns and Latin scripture, Angelus remained still and quiet, seeming attentive throughout the service whilst Spike fidgeted and let out soft sighs. When the hour had passed, people began to rise and file out.

Maurizio smiled as he turned to glance back at his friends, "That was a lovely service. If you excuse me, I would like to have a few words with the priest." He rose and walked forward, leaving Angelus and Elizabeth in the pew.

"Did you enjoy yourself, dear?" Angelus peered at her.

"Yes, I did. It was wonderful," Elizabeth said softly, turning to him with an appreciative smile. "I've always feel at peace at church; the atmosphere just feels settling," she spoke softly. "Did you?"

"Yes, I did. It has been a while since I've attended service. I never did appreciate it that much as a young man, but I can see how it gives others comfort," he smiled. Angelus drew his attention to the high altar where a large portrait of a young woman kneeling was surmounted. "Are you aware of the legend of The Bay of Angels?" he asked, turning back to her.

┼†‡

"That was lovely," Drusilla sighed, resting her head on Spike's shoulder, "the fairy king had a merry way with his trumpets." Obviously, the woman had viewed the holy service as something entirely different.

Spike fidgeted once more and cleared his throat, feeling that he may as well go about with his plans despite the location. It might have been fitting. "I have a gift for you, love," he said.

"Do you?" she pulled herself up and beamed at him, clasping her hands in front of her chest as she anticipated the present.

He pulled the small box out from his inner coat pocket and smiled at her affectionately. Placing it in her expectant palms, he clasped her hands in his, "...Before you open it, I wish to say a few things," he said, almost hesitantly, and seeming to be serious.

Angelus glanced across at their pew from behind, picking up their conversation with his superior hearing.

"What is it?" Drusilla asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

Spike stared at her for a moment before continuing, "Never before would I have fathomed me envying the heavenly bodies of the stars or the moon, for that matter. But, I do. Because I can see how the starlight shimmers in your smile, how the moonlight bathes you, holds you, and kisses you all at once. And I, before I could cover every inch of your skin, it would take me one slow kiss at a time."

Drusilla slightly canted her head as she stared at him, "What are you saying, William?"

"I-I didn't believe this would hold value with our unlives now, but seeing you that night in that apron as you greeted me at the door made me realise how much of a possibility of it becoming a reality. What I'm trying to say is… eternity is too short a time when I'm with you, and an eternity in your absence." He took a shaky breath, "Would you grant me the honour of spending the rest of my immortal existence with you?"

Drusilla blinked.

"You can open it now," Spike said as he removed his hands and exhaled slowly.

Drusilla glanced down and opened the cover. Nestled inside on velvet lining was a small gold ring. It was set with iridescent opal in the centre and studded by smaller pearls surrounding it; engraved leaf designs embellished the ornate centrepieces.

"I love you, Drusilla," Spike said as she peered down at the ring. "Would you take my hand in marriage, as my wife?"

Drusilla glanced up at him with a soft expression, "Oh, William," she touched the side of his face, "there isn't room for that in this world of ours."

He had expected the possibility of her rejection, but he hadn't anticipated the feeling of his heart being ripped out or being gutted. "But… I love you," he said earnestly, the words slipping out too soon before he realised what was happening.

"And I, you. Are you not happy with just being as we are?" she frowned.

"No, I am," Spike reasoned, pulling closer, "but I only want you, Dru. Just you and me."

She stared at him for a moment in silence, and it was in that small window that Spike knew what she had meant without her saying it: You can't have me. It was like that night in that London parlour all over again, but this time, it was with a woman who willingly shared his affections.

"Don't play that sad tune, William," Drusilla cooed, stroking his cheek.

Spike shook his head and forced a smile, "No worries, love, there shall be no tears spilt tonight. Just blood."

Drusilla smiled, "Help me put it on?"

Spike picked the ring up as Drusilla offered out her right hand. He slipped it on her ring finger.

"It's beautiful!" she breathed, admiring it with her hand splayed at a distance.

"Only the best for you, pet," Spike said, pulling her close to his side as she nestled her head onto his shoulder.

┼†‡

Angelus had divided his attention from their conversation with Elizabeth's. At the sudden surprise of the turn of events, he tried to hide his smirk. Oh, William, still such a poet.

He directed his focus back to Elizabeth as he saw her nod.

She looked to the altar where the portrait hung, "I have heard about it in passing, though my memory of it serves unclear," she admitted. "Do you know of it?"

"Aye," Angelus nodded with a smile. "Would you like me to tell you about it?"

"Please do," Elizabeth replied with genuine curiosity.

"It is about a Christian girl from Caesarea. She was arrested and persecuted because of her religion," he looked back to the portrait. "Her torturers tried anything to renounce her faith- burning her alive at the stake only proved fruitless when the flames were put out by rain; even forcing her to drink boiling tar did little to faze her. This resulted in her beheading and her body set on a raft to be desecrated by birds," he turned to look at Elizabeth. "But, it was guided along the Mediterranean by angels to Nice's bay, and her body was left untouched. That is why it is called _Baie des Anges-_ The Bay of Angels," he smiled. "The young martyr became to be known as Sainte Réparate. Legend states that as she fell to her death, her soul emerged in the form of a dove."

"That is a remarkable tale," she spoke softly; her eyes remained transfixed on the young saint's portrait with a gaze that held reverence and awe. Learning her story inspired Elizabeth, if even minutely, to cling to her faith just a bit more. God works in mysterious ways, she reminded herself, as He had plans for everyone. It gave her some comfort to her previous thoughts, believing that things did happen for a reason.

"It is," Angelus replied, quietly observing her reaction. "Amazing how one can remain so devoted to their faith, they'd sacrifice their own life. To have such an unbreakable power of will is something I have yet to behold," he smiled.

Maurizio returned to them, "Are we all settled to leave?" he asked politely with a smile.

"Yes, I believe that we are," Angelus stood. "William, Drusilla," he called out, "we're leaving."

Drusilla promptly hopped up and pulled Spike with her. His expression read a little more glum than irritated like he had been before.

"Beautiful service, Maurizio. Thank you for inviting us," Angelus said as they walked out.

"You're welcome. I am happy you could join me on such short notice."

┼†‡

Partway through the ride home, Drusilla and Spike had asked to leave the carriage to attend to their own business. Maurizio found that a little odd, but did not question their intentions.

When they had returned to the manor, Maurizio wished them a Merry Christmas once more.

He moved forward and took hold of Elizabeth's hand, "It has been a wonderful evening, especially in your company," he said with a lowered voice.

Angelus watched them at a short distance away.

"It was a very good service. Thank you for inviting us," Elizabeth replied kindly.

"It would be a pleasure if we could spend more time together," Maurizio gave her a small smile as he looked into her eyes, his thumb grazing over the top of her hand almost too intimately.

The polite smile she held slightly faltered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with his small gesture.

"I shall be in my study before I retire for the night," he announced, pulling away before Elizabeth had time to respond. "If there is anything that you need, you'll know where to find me," he smiled at Angelus.

"Good night, my friend," Angelus said, giving him a smile and a nod, "Merry Christmas."

Elizabeth's expression dropped to one of unease once he was out of their sights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _Joyeux_ _Noël -_ Merry Christmas  
>  _Cosaques -_ Crackers (supposedly thought to be named after 'Cossack' soldiers who had reputations for riding on their horses and firing guns into the air. Hence the name for the sounds that Christmas crackers make.)  
>  _Baie des Anges -_ The Bay of Angels


	37. Day 42-44: Through a Glass Darkly

**Day Forty-Two**

Spike woke up that day to an empty bed. He sat up and leaned back against his arms as he looked at the indentation left on Drusilla's pillow.

They had found a few street urchins the previous night and made them run for several blocks before ascending on them, ushering them close to the tracks where Spike took up his nom de guerre and tortured a man with a railroad spike. He'd been vicious, and rightly so, wanting to drive out the hurt he felt from Drusilla's words and rejection. He knew that she loved him, but out of all the times that he had told her he loved her, he had never actually heard her say the words: I love you.

He shifted out of the covers and pulled on some clothes before descending downstairs, wondering where his love had drifted off to again.

He wandered into the parlour and was thankfully rewarded on his first attempt, finding Drusilla seated on the sofa with tea and some pastries.

"Dru, there you are, love," Spike smiled. Though he came upon the most disturbing scene he had probably seen from her.

With her was her cracked doll, Miss Corrine, seated on the table in a blue dress, fashioned similarly like the ones that Elizabeth took to wearing. Drusilla had also tied a white ribbon around its waist like a sash and pulled back its hair, worn in a style much like Elizabeth's.

"I'm here," Drusilla smiled as she poured Miss Corrine a cup of tea.

Spike took a seat next to her and eyed the doll, "You… dressed her up," he glanced up at Drusilla, "like Elizabeth."

Drusilla started to pour a cup for Spike, "Miss Corrine admires her sense of style. Says it's very befitting for her," she set down the teapot and smiled at him. "Come, try these," Drusilla held up a pain de chocolat to his face. "These are fresh, but I helped to make some a few days ago."

Leaning forward with a bit of hesitance, Spike took a small bite of the chocolate croissant. He watched Drusilla carefully as he chewed, afraid that her psychosis was starting to get worse, and he wasn't sure how he was going to help her overcome it.

┼†‡

**Day Forty-Three**

The following day, Spike noticed Drusilla wearing a familiar looking dress. "Have you worn this before?" he asked, peering at it curiously.

She shook her head and merely smiled at him with amusement.

"The colour and cut looks awfully familiar," he said, letting his gaze drift over her form.

"Have you been noticing women's dresses lately?" Drusilla smiled at him.

"I only pay particularly close attention to what's on you, pet," Spike smiled, tugging her close to his body. He gave her a kiss and beamed down at her, but in his mind, he could have sworn he'd seen it before.

┼†‡

After Drusilla had retired for the day, Spike crept up from bed and pulled open the wardrobe. He had resorted to using the dresser since Drusilla's dresses took up most of the room, so what he found there surprised him.

He hadn't thought twice about the night of the Christmas Eve party, or even during Christmas, but now that he had the wardrobe doors wide open, they were all familiar because he _had_ seen them before. They were the evening gowns worn by those five girls that Drusilla had enchanted that fateful night.

He glanced over his shoulder as he watched her sleeping form.

If they were there, where were the girls?

He shut the doors and joined her back under the covers.

┼†‡

**Day Forty-Four**

Drusilla was missing again.

Spike was starting to get used to this strange pattern, but it was odd and unusual, even for her. Why would a vampire bother getting up so early in morning daylight? And doing what?

He quickly got dressed and decided he'd see where she had gone off to.

Wasting no time, Spike asked the help if they had seen Drusilla wandering around. After going through several 'noes', one of the cooks had said she had taken a slice of pear galette before leaving. One of the scullery maids had also mentioned seeing her wandering past the gardens. It came as a little strange to Spike, because, though the weather was still mildly warm for that time of year, there were no flowers or plants to attend to; things were left for spring to be cleared away and trimmed. Spike recalled on Christmas day when Drusilla had told them she had 'gone to feed the chicken', but the barns weren't located in that area- they were on the opposite side of the estate.

With a sigh, he decided he would look around that vicinity and hoped to pick up on her scent.

┼†‡

Walking with an umbrella in hand, he peered up at the overcast with caution. He ambled forward, driven by his ambition to find his love and solving her mysterious disappearances. After several minutes of only the sound of his footfall in his company, he halted when he saw the figure of someone from the corner of his eye.

Sitting on a bench under the shade of a tree, was Elizabeth, quietly poised as she read from her book.

"Oh, it's just you," Spike said with disappointment. He sighed.

Elizabeth raised her eyes to him with a slight arch to her brow, "I beg your pardon?" her voice was slightly terse. It wasn't like she was the one invading his personal space and being met with disappointment. She eased her tension by taking a breath, expecting no less from her sire. "Looking for Drusilla?" she smiled, assuming that was the only reason he was up and about so early. "I have not seen her and I have been out here for the past hour," Elizabeth memorised her page number before closing her book.

"Bloody hell," Spike said quietly with a sigh, rolling his eyes. "She's been being really elusive and flighty lately- and I mean more so than she already is."

"Would you like me to help?" Elizabeth asked with mild concern.

Spike rubbed at his face as he pondered this, his lip jutting out slightly, almost in a pout, "Mm, all right," he nodded, raising his eyes to her. "We split up. I'll going this way," he pointed to the left, "and you go that way," he then pointed to the right. "If you find her, bring her back here and don't move. I'll return in a couple of hours."

Elizabeth nodded and stood.

Turning on his spot, Spike set out.

┼†‡

He wandered around, walking between mazes of hedges, and calling out every now and then to see if Drusilla thought it was a game of hide-and-seek. After about an hour of aimless walking, he ventured out far enough where he saw a shed in the near distance. It appeared as though it hadn't been used in a while, being a little dilapidated and worn from weather and wear, but looking at it made him feel uneasy.

┼†‡

"What's wrong, Leon? Don't you like it? It's your favourite- pear tarte," Drusilla cooed as she cradled a young woman in her arms. They were huddled in the corner of a small space with dim lighting on a dirt floor.

The girl was clearly shivering out of fright and cold. Her head was bowed, and her hair was a mess as it fell over her face in tangled curls, "P-please, won't you let me go…?" she said hoarsely, on the verge of a sob.

Drusilla peered across at the floor to see a half eaten piece of cake, "You didn't finish your cake." She turned to look her, "You haven't been eatin' much lately, chicken."

"I don't want to eat them!" she cried, lifting her head.

It was Flossie.

Her face was dirt smudged, and her once round and rosy cheeks had thinned out from the lack of proper food; the life and spark in her eyes had dimmed.

Though she had cried many times the past few days she was imprisoned, her eyes began to well again, "All you feed me is sweets," she sobbed. "Please, n-no more! Won't you let me go?" she turned to look at the brunette woman with pleading eyes.

Drusilla's lips drew into a thin line as she pulled away, "You aren't pleased?" she said tersely.

"I-I just want to go home," Flossie sobbed, her bottom lip quivering.

Drusilla stood from her spot and took a step away from her as her expression grew darker, "You are home, now! This is your new home!"

┼†‡

Spike picked up Drusilla's scent as he stepped forward. Coming closer, he heard her speaking, which was a common thing, but there was another voice in there with her. His eyes widened.

"Drusilla?" he opened the door to see two heads snap in his direction.

At the sudden surprise of the door being opened, Flossie heaved herself up and bolted as she pushed past Spike.

He was too shocked to realise what was happening, "Drusilla…? What is going on? You kidnapped her?" he looked to Drusilla in astonishment. He recognised the woman from that night as Elizabeth's childhood friend, the one who was engaged to his former colleague, Edgar. It made sense now where Drusilla and she had disappeared to that night at the party- she had taken her back here.

"She's gettin' away!" Drusilla cried. "Leon will get lost! She isn't familiar with her new home, yet!"

"I… what…?" Spike was confused. He knew this wasn't right; Drusilla's delusions were driving her to do these things.

"Please, William, help me find her!" Drusilla pleaded as she approached him, her eyes panicstricken. She anxiously clutched at the front of his coat, "Please!"

"All right," Spike finally replied with reluctance.

┼†‡

Elizabeth walked slowly, veiled in the safety of her blue cloak, and her hands covered with her white gloves. Having walked the expanse of her area of the garden, she was met with disappointment. Worry began to settle in the pit of her stomach. If her sire was willing to search for Drusilla at this hour, there was probably more reason to be concerned.

┼†‡

Flossie ran through the garden in the dimming light, with no plan but to get away from her captor. Despite being kept away with little food, her adrenaline spike gave her the surge to run as fast as she possibly could.

She gulped in air and swallowed as she looked around her. Spotting a woman in the distance dressed in blue, her eyes widened.

"E-Elizabeth…! Elizabeth!" she cried, lifting up the hem of her dirt ingrained dress as she ran forward. She sobbed out of relief and distress at the sight of a familiar face.

Elizabeth was pulled from her distracted thoughts at the sound of her name. She turned, "Flossie…?" her eyes widened with surprise to see her friend still alive, but barely recognised the sight of her.

"P-please, you have to help me!" Flossie cried, stumbling forward against her.

"What happened?" Elizabeth held her up with steady arms.

"Sh-she took me away! Locked me up out in the cold," Flossie drew in a ragged breath as new tears streamed down her face.

Elizabeth tried to make sense of her words, "Who is 'she'...?" she asked tentatively with upturned brows.

┼†‡

Spike and Drusilla came upon the scene of Flossie reunited with Elizabeth.

"She's found her!" Drusilla cried happily. She sprang ahead, causing her cape to billow behind her, "Teddy, Leon, they're together again!"

Watching her from behind, Spike stood idle with his umbrella. He knew what she intended to do, and it only made him feel sicker.

Flossie looked up to see her kidnapper in front of her again, "No, please, don't let her get to me!" she ducked behind Elizabeth, using her like a protective barrier.

As Elizabeth turned to see Drusilla nearing, it became clear to her what had happened.

Discarding the umbrella to the side, Spike suddenly pinned Drusilla's arms down from behind in a tight embrace, "They aren't your sisters, love," he said to her in her ear. "They're dead. They died a long time ago; you saw it happen."

Elizabeth's head perked up. With lightly furrowed brows, she turned to look at her sire, only to have her inquisitive eyes flick across to Drusilla.

It made sense now, that name Drusilla had inadvertently called her that night at dinner, and again that day. Teddy: one of the names of the sisters- Theodora- from Drusilla's fairytale. Elizabeth believed- knew- that it was once the name of one of Drusilla's sisters.

Drusilla's dark tale and own reaction to it had made Elizabeth speculate whether it had reflected something more than just a made up dark fable, that it was perhaps a half truth- she just did not know where the truth began and where Drusilla's psychosis ended. She hadn't realised how much truth of Drusilla's own history was steeped in it. That day, it became apparent to her that Drusilla had bore witness to her own sisters' deaths.

"No!" Drusilla wailed and squirmed in Spike's hold. "They're standing right there in front of me!"

Spike turned his head and looked at Elizabeth, "Kill her."

Elizabeth drew a breath. His gaze alone pierced like daggers, but his words made her feel like she had been gutted.

"NO!" Drusilla cried louder.

"Do it, Elizabeth! She hasn't got a life to return to. Her fiance's dead, and she knows you're 'alive'; she'll let your family learn about your whereabouts. Do you want them to go on with that kind of heartache? Kill her!"

"Edgar…? He's dead…?" Flossie was confused. She looked to Elizabeth nervously, "W-what is going on…? Tell me it isn't true. Elizabeth…?" her lips quivered.

Elizabeth stood listless as she swallowed, listening to her sire barking orders at her, the wailing grief of her grandsire, and the fear and heartache in the voice of her trembling friend. She was torn. Each one of them held a certain sway to her emotions, and she did not want to hurt or disappoint any of them. But it was something she had learnt in life, that she could never please everyone. In this case, anything that she decided to do would result with her own unhappiness.

She directed her gaze to her friend as her eyes glossed over. She knew it had to be done. Her family could never learn where she was. Flossie could also never return to the life that she had before, having suffered at the hands of Elizabeth's sires, and having her chance of future happiness ruined.

Confused at Elizabeth's calm composure in the midst of chaos, Flossie searched her face, "Elizabeth…?

Elizabeth held the sides of Flossie's arms as the vision of her friend's expression blurred from the tears that welled in her eyes. Turning her head, Elizabeth looked to her sire, only to be met with an icy stare.

"NO!" now crying out to Elizabeth, Drusilla shook her head wildly from side to side.

The look of her desperation was enough to cause Elizabeth to close her eyes and turn away. She faced Flossie, raising her eyes to her once more as a tear slipped down her cheek, "I'm sorry, Flossie," she whispered with bowed brows, sincerely apologetic and already regretting an act she had yet to commit.

"E-Elizabeth…?" Flossie's breathing increased as the fear began to settle and replace her growing confusion. The firm hold on her arms tightened into a grip, eliciting a squeal from her lips; Elizabeth pulled her down to the ground as she knelt.

"NO! No, no, nonono!"

A brief echo of childish laughter filled Elizabeth's ears, causing her to hesitate, and momentarily delaying her actions. Her features twitched with torment and frustration as she kept her iron clad hold on her squirming and frightened friend. Elizabeth took a calming breath as she focused her efforts on her task, then clamped her hand down over Flossie's mouth, muffling her cries. She moved in closer, seeing the wide eyed fear of her eyes, but it was like she was peering through a screen and she was just going through the motions. Like the sick man she had taken pity on in the alleyway, she made it quick and merciful. Elizabeth bit down into Flossie's neck; she felt the wracking of her silent sobs as she held her body, the hot tears that slipped down over her hand.

"Teddy, don't hurt your sister! You must play nice!" Drusilla fought and struggled in Spike's grip.

Elizabeth held Flossie till she felt her struggling grow weaker; she was almost sure she felt the exact moment she had drifted away as she fell limp in her arms.

Drusilla let out a caterwaul of anguish as she began to sob. "Leon… my Leontine…."

Elizabeth's expression was stoic as she lay Flossie's body on the cold ground. She wiped the remaining blood on her mouth away with the back of her hand as she stood over her dead friend.

Spike could feel Drusilla's thrashing lessen and he loosened his grip.

She whipped around and glared daggers at him as she growled, " _You_ killed her!" she slapped him hard across the face. "You killed my Leon!" she shoved Spike hard on the shoulders, but he held his ground.

He looked to her with a blank expression as he accepted her assaults, waiting for a moment for her to calm down.

"Why…?" she sobbed. "Why would you take her from me again, William?" Drusilla bowed her head in defeat as she moved forward and nestled her head against his shoulder and sobbed.

Spike wrapped his arms around her protectively and rocked her, "I'm sorry, love. Please find it in your heart to forgive me one day," he kissed her gently on the head.

"I hate you," Drusilla whimpered quietly as her shoulders quaked; she snaked her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him.

Spike sighed softly, expecting just as much with what he had done to spoil her plans on reuniting her 'family', but it wasn't right, not even in their illogical world. He lifted her up and cradled her in his arms as she continued to weep against his shoulder, her usually strong figure now limp, and her once fierce nature now reduced to a little girl.

Elizabeth had remained quiet, waiting till they had calmed down before she could speak, "Where do we put her now?" her voice was soft and distant, devoid of emotion despite the harrowing things she had just done. Her eyes remained downcast.

Taking a few steps forward, Spike looked down at her, "Dig a grave and throw it in."

Elizabeth merely nodded.

He began to walk away, only to pause to glance back at her, "Make sure to break the neck." Spike left Elizabeth alone as he headed back to the house with Drusilla in arms.

┼†‡

As she had been instructed, Elizabeth slowly set to work. Dragging Flossie's body to a more remote area of the gardens, Elizabeth found a shovel from an outdoor toolshed and dug a grave. It was dark by the time she was done; the sound of the spade scraping against earth, and dirt falling with a low thud as she tossed it on the ground- it all seemed surreal to her, like she was in a dream. Finding the grave deep enough, Elizabeth hovered over Flossie's pale body and held her face between her hands. How long was it since she had taken her last breath? An hour? Less. Yet Flossie's body felt almost as cold as the ground she was lying on, Elizabeth noted. It was anything but a sweet farewell as Elizabeth gave a quick twist and heard the audible sound of vertebrae crunch. Finally laying Flossie down in her final resting place, Elizabeth began to toss the dirt over her body and watched her slowly disappear from view.

Throughout all of this, to the moment Elizabeth had returned to her room, she remained expressionless and numb. Seated in a chair with a book in her lap, she hadn't yet bothered to change out of her clothes. Dirt streaked her dress and face, her hair was slightly unkempt, and her hands still had remnants of dried blood caked on it. She looked half mad, a scenario that was more befitting for her grandsire, Drusilla. In her silence, Elizabeth allowed her gaze to unfocus as she stared blankly at the pages in front of her.

┼†‡

Drusilla lay in bed, sobbing till she could no longer make any sounds as her shoulders continued to quiver. Spike soothingly stroked her back throughout this till she had stopped and drifted off into an exhausted sleep. He stayed with her throughout the night, afraid she would slip out again and do something hasty, but she remained unconscious, and he soon fell asleep himself.

 


	38. Day 45-46: The Lamb

Spike woke to find Drusilla gone from his side. He bolted up, but soon relaxed to see her seated at the vanity table combing Miss Corrine's hair.

Walking to her, Spike knelt by her side and looked up at her with concern, "Drusilla, how are you feeling, love?" he asked softly.

"Couldn't hear the stars sparkle," she said in her soft and childish voice as she focused on her slow combing. "I fink the big ol' moon's got 'em hidden and locked away in a cupboard."

"Do you think you'll be up to coming out with me tonight? How about I bring something back for you? You haven't had anything to eat at all yesterday."

"Fink they've got secrets. Don' want 'em whisperin' too loudly or I'll tattle," she continued on.

Spike gave a small nod, feeling that even though she was a little despondent, she had at least pulled herself from the bed and was no longer crying. "Stay put, my sweet, I'll see about finding something for you to nibble on," he pulled himself off the floor and gave her a kiss on her brow.

She showed no response to his affection and continued with her combing.

With one last look, Spike turned and left the room.

┼†‡

A lone candle lit the small confines of the library loft where Elizabeth sat reading. She had prepared herself that day like no other, but the routine felt more mechanical, as if she could see herself going through the motions rather than experiencing them. Everything seemed more subdued- the sound of her shoes on the marble floors was muffled, the lighting dimmed and less vibrant, and the clothes she wore were like weights pulling down on her. She didn't even realise how she found herself in the library, let alone having already read through a third of her novel.

Elizabeth glanced to the stack of books on the tableside, allowing her thoughts to drift.

She did not know what she was feeling. She wasn't tired, despite feeling like it was one of the longest days she had experienced the night before, in addition to getting little sleep. There was no anger, even when her sire had given her that fatal ultimatum. And with the results of her actions, she did not even feel sadness or remorse. It was an odd sensation, and she supposed she was grateful for it, if she could feel even that. She was numb and felt misguided. She was lost.

┼†‡

The idea of having Drusilla feed from a child didn't appeal to Spike, as it would have probably reminded her of her sisters and former life. In retrospect, he didn't think her feeding from any humans would be ideal for the time being. Opting for something of the furry variety, he caught a hare and brought it back to her.

"Drusilla, I have a treat for you," he said as he came into the room. The hare squirmed in his grasp as it violently kicked at the air. It appeared as though Drusilla hadn't moved from her spot since he had left an hour or so ago.

She slowly turned to look at the animal in his grasp.

"Took a little running around to catch the bugger, but I managed," Spike said, putting it out into her tentatively outstretched hands.

Just as Drusilla had her fingers through its fur, she suddenly pushed it back and away. The hare dropped to the ground with a loud thump as it landed on its feet and wildly began to run about the room. "The spots! The spots! Get 'em out! Scrub 'em clean; they're still soiled!" she cried.

Spike watched her reaction in surprise, "Is it… not to your liking, pet?"

Drusilla stood abruptly and glared at him, "I don't like it!" she yelled, taking ahold of her brush and throwing it at him.

Spike dodged.

"It is unclean!" she continued, this time throwing a glass bottle. It smashed onto the floor.

"A-all right, Dru. Something else, then," Spike replied as he shielded himself from other assailing objects.

He quickly retreated out the door; the hare ran past his feet before he managed to close it.

Letting out a low sigh, Spike paused momentarily as he gazed at the floor and collected his thoughts. He'd never seen her so upset before, and he knew that he was entirely to blame.

┼†‡

As he neared the library, he was met with Elizabeth. Her expression was distant, but not the normal dream-like quality she usually held. She looked dissociated, like she wasn't present.

"Elizabeth," he said, alerting her, possibly snapping her out of her trancelike state.

Elizabeth turned around and lifted her gaze to her sire. She blinked before replying, "Yes?" her voice reflected the remote look in her eyes.

Spike took a moment to observe her before speaking, "Off for some supper?" he asked plainly. He sounded tired, and surprisingly, without his snideness.

Elizabeth simply nodded, her expression unchanging.

Pausing for a beat, Spike glanced down, "You did well," he looked back up at her. "It was something you had to do. I know she was someone you held dear to your heart, but under the given circumstances," he glanced down again as his brows knit together, like he was expressing some sorrow, "it was… best for her to be dead." He looked back up at her again, his eyes blue and almost misty as he peered back into her lifeless ones.

A spark of vitality returned to her features as she quietly listened to his words. It almost seemed like her sire was speaking from experience, noting the glimpse of sadness he was trying to suppress. Elizabeth was reminded of the time after their fight outside of the tavern, having seen him babbling deliriously from the loss of blood as Drusilla cradled his head in her lap. It was the only other time she had seen him entirely vulnerable, unbeknownst to him. She wondered if what he was referring to had to do with what he had talked about in the past. From what she had recalled, he was speaking to Drusilla like she were his mother.

"Would you… like to join me?" she asked tentatively.

Spike hadn't expected an invitation. Taking a moment to deliberate, he thought it might be nice to have some company. After all, they hadn't spent time together since his incident.

He nodded, "Company would be nice."

┼†‡

They made their way out into the heart of the city, favouring a location where Spike could spy on wealthy aristocrats being driven out to restaurants or parties. He spotted a carriage with a young lady and an elderly woman with a poodle in her arms.

"I take the veal, and you the old bag," he said, turning to Elizabeth.

She sighed at his choice, being reminded of herself.

He paused, "She's going to die at any moment anyhow. Probably choke on a fishbone or collapse a lung on her next sneeze," he reasoned.

"I almost did not recognise you without you sitting on my left shoulder," she said under her breath, wrestling with logic and her hunger.

Watching them exit their carriage, Spike swiftly began to move forward towards them.

He stopped them before they could reach the building, "Ah, we've been expecting you," he said, his French distinctly accented. "Please, this way," he smiled genially as he gestured with his arm.

The women looked to him with bafflement, giving some quips of protest, but made no resistance as he ushered them around the bend of the building towards a dark alley. The young woman- either the daughter or granddaughter- looked around in confusion as she began to question where they were being led. Spike immediately grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her in towards him as his face morphed into that of a demon's and a sneer. Sinking his teeth into her neck, she lay limp in his arms within a minute, and before long, cooling on the cold ground with a heavy thump.

The elderly woman barely put up a struggle in her frail condition. Making quick work of her, Elizabeth let the world melt away. She'd taken a backseat in her mind, allowing the actions of her body to move on its own accord out of necessity and bloodlust, like she were being controlled.

Spike waited to see Elizabeth finish up as he scooped up the yapping dog that was pawing at her legs. "And this one's for Dru," he said as the dog continued to bark.

Dropping the woman, Elizabeth turned to her sire and nodded. The meal brought a little more character to her eyes, but she was still far from her normal self. It seemed as though time in her sire's company was helping somehow.

"How is she?" she asked with concern, one of the emotions that made a slow return to her voice.

"She's still pretty upset," Spike shifted the dog under the crook of his arm as it continued to yap at him, "but I think she's starting to realise that what she was doing was just a fantasy," he sighed. "I'm worried about her. I've never seen her like this before," he admitted, glancing down as he began to walk out of the alley.

Elizabeth walked next to him, not sure whether she should try to comfort him or just leave him be.

"If you didn't do away with her, she was going to make you two her sisters," he turned to glance at Elizabeth.

She nodded, now realising that her grandsire's condition was a lot worse than she had perceived it to be, "It had to be done…, I see that now." It was better that way, she reasoned. Without anyone letting her family learn the truth, they could mourn her and move on. This was something she had come to terms with long before that moment in the garden.

Spike observed her for a moment in silence, noticing a notable change in her. He supposed she was finally starting to see the ways of her new unlife. For her, he assumed it was something much harder for her to accept, but it was something she was going to have to face sooner or later.

"What of you?" Elizabeth suddenly asked after a moment of silence.

Spike turned to her in surprise, caught off guard by her question, "What about me?"

"Earlier today at the manor, it appeared as though you shared a similar burden to me," Elizabeth peered up at her sire carefully, glancing over the subtle changes of bewilderment in his expression. "We both worry about Drusilla's well-being, but is there something troubling you, William?"

This time, it was Spike who could not summon the proper words. His pace had even slowed without him realising it, and he would have stumbled if he hadn't caught himself. "Trouble doesn't find me, I find it," he forced a wry smile.

"Perhaps so," Elizabeth lowered her gaze to the path in front of her, keeping her hands folded and clasped. "Flossie was my only friend. You heard the stories; I wasn't a normal girl," she carried on. "Many shied from me, but she- she was always there. As we got older, I didn't see much of her, but that itself did not bother me; she was still kind to me, all the same," she paused as she let the sound of their footfall fill their silence. "I knew it was for the best. It… had to be done," she continued on with her reasoning with a small nod. "I feel bad for her death," she raised her head as she looked ahead of her, "yet I do not feel… guilty," she turned to looked at her sire. He was quiet for once, but his eyes were inquisitive as he had been watching her. "That is weighing on me. Have you… ever felt this way, in the beginning?" her brows turned up at him earnestly. She shook her head in doubt as she looked away, "I… I am sure I am making little sense to you."

"No, yes, no."

Elizabeth looked to him in confusion.

Spike glanced at her and sighed a little, "No, you weren't normal. Yes, her death was for the best. And no, I'd never felt those two opposing emotions concurrently, only-" his words caught in his throat and he struggled to swallow. He looked ahead as he moved forward, "I've never felt guilty or sympathy for any deaths I've caused- I see little point to that- save… for one," his voice grew quieter as he lowered his eyes to the dog, seeming to find it suddenly more interesting as he pet at it.

"You… you have?" she peered at him with raised brows, genuinely surprised. "Might I ask, who that was…?" she asked carefully. There was someone that she suspected, but she could not bring herself to say it out loud.

For a long while, Spike didn't say anything. The dog's squirming had lessened in his arms since he had started to scratch it under its chin, but doing this did not help with his rising anxiety. "It was…," his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat before he resumed, "she was… my mother."

He'd said it. Voiced the very person that she fearfully held in her mind. Elizabeth's look of shock soon softened at the sight of her sire. Despite keeping his head inclined, she could see the very same glint shimmering in his eyes as he had before. "What… happened…?" she asked softly.

Spike had managed to keep trudging forward, even with the weight of his boots, of his own legs, suddenly feeling like lead. He stopped abruptly, though he hadn't meant to. Inwardly he willed his legs forward, but instead, he feel the weight of the dog falling through his grasp.

"William!" Elizabeth rushed forward and caught the yapping animal before it hit the ground, nestling it against her chest as it quivered and cried. With a relieved sigh, she straightened up and looked to her sire. He seemed catatonic, and it was unnerving coming from a man like him. "William?" her brows furrowed up with worry as she approached closer.

"She-she-she was ill," he stuttered, "so, so very ill…," he trailed off and covered his face with his hand, seeming to cave into himself as he folded his other arm across his chest and clutched at the side of his waist. His shoulders began to quake as he sobbed silently, till a sound of anguish managed to escape his throat.

She shifted the dog higher in her grasp so that she could still manage to lift one of her arms, "William," she repeated softly, touching his cold and trembling hand at his side, "would you like to sit down?"

He nodded.

Looking like a lost little boy, Elizabeth guided him forward by the hand as he sniffled and shuffled his feet behind her.

She found a fountain and sat him down on the ledge, surprised to see that the water was still running, but she thought it was discreet enough to drown out his crying and allow him some privacy. Sitting across from him, she scratched at the dog's head to calm its nerves, quietly waiting for a moment for her sire to catch his own bearings. After a few minutes, her patience had paid off.

"It was consumption," he sniffled, wiping the back of his hand across his runny nose.

Elizabeth perked up at the word. That moment in the carriage ride that night, she had recalled him mentioning that. She waited for him to carry on.

"She was…, she was _dying_ ," he blurted out, finally lifting his eyes to her. It was clear how much of an emotional burden he was carrying with the way he looked at her, his brows expressively upturned, and his eyes wide and almost seeking some reasonable explanation to all that had happened to him. His eyes shone with the tears that still trickled down from them, and the blue that Elizabeth had witnessed so vividly in the caravan made its reappearance before her. "I… I only wished her suffering to end," he said quietly, lowering his gaze again.

Elizabeth watched him quietly as he spoke, when she was reminded of that poem she had gleaned from that night of games before he had snatched it from her grasp. A mother's love- his mother's love?

"On the night I had returned as a vampire, I had decided it would. I would make her one of us," he fiddled with his fingers in his lap as he stared at the ground. "But she…," a small sob bubbled from his lips and he gasped as he tried to suppress it. He shook his head, "It doesn't work the same way with everyone. She wasn't at all like I had imagined. The same face, the same voice… she was glowing with life and vitality I hadn't seen in her for years, but… she was not my mother." He shook his head again, "She was not my mother." He raised his head to looked at Elizabeth, "So I killed her- again. I had to," he swallowed. "She forced her hand and it was the only thing that I could do…," he lowered his head and wiped at his eyes.

Then it all made sense to her- the unmentionable, insufferable, unforgivable things he had done to her. His words that night in the carriage ride echoed in her mind: _It wasn't me there, Mother…, I only wished to make it- to make it… stop._ He had loved his mother enough to believe he was freeing her from pain by making her a creature of the night, but instead, was left with something else. He'd been witness to her death twice, but realising he had actually taken her actual essence the first time around where his good intentions lay, made him learn his horrific mistake.

Elizabeth held the dog to her chest and lowered her face in its fur, feeling a deep sympathy for her sire as she quietly wept. She could hardly bring herself to imagine him willingly kill his mother again. It was difficult enough for herself to do that to friend she hadn't seen in years, but a mother who had loved and raised him by hand? Despite what he was, and all the hardships and harsh words he put her through, he was heartbroken and hadn't properly grieved.

She sniffled and wiped at her wet cheeks before lowering the dog to the ground, commanding it to sit and stay in French. Turning to her sire, she leaned forward and clasped her hand on top of his, "I'm sorry, William, for everything you had to endure," she began, being sincere. "I cannot say I know what it's like to have my mother… pass before me, but being unable to see her as I am, gives me great pain. I… miss her a great deal," she admitted, feeling a sudden ache in her chest. More tears spilled from her cheeks at her own passing thought, but it was her sire she wanted to console. She took a deep breath and carried on, "Please, let me offer a prayer in her name. That is the least I can do," she peered up at his downcast face.

He paused, seeming to consider her offer, then nodded.

Elizabeth bowed her head as she closed her eyes, clasping both her hands in his as she began to pray out loud: "And we also bless thy holy Name for all thy servants departed this life in thy faith and fear; beseeching thee to give us grace so to follow their good examples, that with them we may be partakers of thy heavenly kingdom. O God, whose mercies cannot be numbered: Accept our prayers on behalf of thy servant- what was your mother's name?"

"Anne. Anne Pratt," Spike replied hollowly.

"Accept our prayers on behalf of thy servant, Anne Pratt, and grant her an entrance into the land of light and joy, in the fellowship of thy saints; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen."

Elizabeth raised her head and released her clasped hands as she peered at him, hoping that it had given him some peace of mind.

"Prayer does little for the ones left behind," he spoke before raising his head at her. By now, his tears had dried, but the sadness on his face remained, "The prayer was for her, and maybe for you, but I," he shook his head, "I'd long given up on God's mercy." He pushed himself to his feet and began to walk away.

Elizabeth watched him in stunned silence from where she remained seated, only to scramble up as she scooped the dog back into her arms and catch up behind him.

She glanced to him from her side when she had reached him, unsure of what other words to offer him.

He turned to her suddenly, surprising her as he removed the dog from her arms before proceeding. "Thank you. Elizabeth," he said, words she rarely heard him say, especially if it was directed at her. He kept his eyes forward, but there was a sincerity and even a gratefulness to his tone.

"You're welcome," she replied, surprised at the turn of events, but also relieved and happy that he was no longer carrying such a burden.

They walked the rest of the way to the manor without exchanging any other words.

┼†‡

Finally arriving back at the di Bazza estate, Spike pushed through the large doors to find Drusilla descending the stairs, changed and dressed for a night out. She was wearing all three of Spike's gifts- bracelet, brooch, and ring- each glinting with each step she took.

"Drusilla," he said in surprise, taking a few slow steps forward, "you're up and about," he beamed up at her, happy and relieved. His own moment of depression a long and forgotten memory.

Elizabeth followed behind him, stopping short a small distance from where he stood as she looked to her grandsire. Concern and compassion were the first couple of emotions that seemed to break through the barrier of her numbness, but seeing Drusilla recuperated from her emotional breakdown was cause for a genuine smile, albeit small. Her speedy recovery was like a catalyst for Elizabeth's own emotional healing.

Drusilla slowly walked down with measured step, letting her gloved fingers glide along the bannister as she peered at them from above, "I was all cooped up. Wanted to go out for some playtime," she replied as she approached him. Her eyes only briefly flicked over at Elizabeth. "Is this for me?" she looked at the poodle in Spike's arms.

"Ah, yes," he glanced down at the yapping thing as it squirmed. "Thought you might like something different, seeing as the hare wasn't to your taste."

Drusilla smiled as she leaned forward and gave Spike a peck on the lips, "I love it," she trailed a finger over the dog's snout and poked it on the nose. "Can we save it for later? I wish to find something more… filling," she looked up at Spike.

"'Course, pet," Spike smiled, happy that she was being so receptive. "Let me put it in our room. I shan't be long."

Drusilla watched him trot upstairs before turning to Elizabeth, "My, my, have you gotten spoilt," she smiled. She took a step closer as she brought her hands to Elizabeth's shoulders, "You are your daddy's precious li'l girl," she brought her head forward next to her ear, "aren't you?"

A shiver ran up Elizabeth's spine. The smile that she held had all but vanished, replaced by the upturn of her brows at the confusion of her grandsire's words. She was used to Drusilla's psychobabble and wasn't at all offended with how she overstepped her boundaries with proximity, but she could not deny the sudden chill her elder imposed on her in that instance.

Taking a half step back, Drusilla trailed her eyes over Elizabeth's form, "Spots, spots… all I see are spots," she grimaced slightly, then flicked her eyes up at her. "Do you know what we do with spots?"

"I… don't understand," Elizabeth's voice trembled as she lowered her eyes from Drusilla's penetrating gaze. She licked her lips nervously.

Before any other words were exchanged, Spike returned, "Are we ready, love?" he smiled as he approached Drusilla.

"Yes," Drusilla smiled in turn as she wrapped her hands around his arm. She stole a glance at Elizabeth in passing.

There were times when her grandsire made her uneasy, but Elizabeth could never recall when she was afraid of her- till now.

┼†‡

After a long night out with their usual games and killings, Spike and Drusilla returned to their room in happier spirits. Drusilla let him go ahead for a bath, seeing as he had made a mess of himself. And not thinking much about it, Spike agreed.

She sat on the edge of the bed and listened to the running water for a moment before slowly rising and turning to the adjoining door to Elizabeth's room.

The room was dark and quiet when she slipped in, with only the light from her and Spike's bedroom spilling in to light her way. Her eyes were locked on Elizabeth's dark and motionless form as she slowly crept forward, silent and predatory. Once she was by her bedside, Drusilla cocked her head to the side and watched Elizabeth's sleeping face. With the same mechanical slowness, she raised her hand and moved some stray strands of hair from Elizabeth's cheek with a pointed finger. She lowered her arm and observed her for a short spell before suddenly lurching forward onto the bed, splaying her legs as she straddled her.

Elizabeth's eyelids snapped open, being yanked from a semi decent sleep after all the restless nights had recently been having. Unable to roll to her side, she felt a weight holding her in place, only to have a force slam her back against the mattress. She whimpered as her arms were forcibly raised by her head and pinned down with an iron grip. Darting her eyes around in panic, she struggled to focus in the dark as they adjusted to the figure in front of her.

"G-grandmother?" her voice sounded frail and thin, half from sleep, the other from trembling fear that returned with Drusilla's presence. She whimpered again, flinching from the pain that Drusilla inflicted on her wrists, "P-please…, what is happening?"

Drusilla's expression was stoic and stone cold as she loomed in closer towards her, "Look at me, deary," she began, her eyes wide and unblinking. "Be in my eyes; be in me," her voice was hypnotic.

Elizabeth squirmed helplessly under her weight as tears began to well in her eyes, "Please…," she gasped, raising her gaze to her eyes. When they locked, Elizabeth grew still; only a tear had managed to roll down her cheek.

Having Elizabeth finally succumb to her hypnosis, Drusilla weaved her fingers through Elizabeth's hair and pressed them firmly against her skull. She shut her eyes as she searched her memories. Not long after, a slow grin spread across her face. She gave a small giggle before opening her eyes and slowly withdrew her fingers from her hair.

"Elizabeth…, Elizabeth!" she called out as she peered down at her.

Hearing her name, Elizabeth was softly culled from her trance. Focus returned to her eyes, but when she peered up at her grandsire, it was not Drusilla she was looking at- it was her father.

"Father…?" she blinked at him in confusion.

"God, why are you always such a disappointment? All you do is daydream with your nose stuck in your books. You can't even follow a simple request and keep me happy by meeting with your gentleman suitor. Thought you could skirt your duties by taking to the abbey? What a disgrace you've put upon our name," he frowned at her.

Elizabeth stared back at him, stunned, "N-no…, you don't understand-"

"It was much to my relief that you had all up and disappeared," he laughed.

"P-please-" she had difficulty swallowing.

"It was like a great burden had been lifted from our shoulders! We rejoiced! We had a feast in your absence. Oh, what a joy that day brought us," he chuckled.

Tears began spilling freely from her eyes. She was used to the way he lectured her, but his words now were far worse than she could have imagined. He'd always held a certain dignity and restraint, and in his eyes, a lesson and course for his actions that he reasoned was out of love. There was nothing loving in his words at that moment. They were cold and hateful.

He pulled back, and this time, it was her brother that appeared.

"Oh, Lizzy," Jon sighed, shaking his head slightly in disappointment.

"Jon!" Elizabeth turned to some relief that he would lend an open ear. "You understand, don't you?" her brows furrowed upward in the hopes that he would at least listen to reason. "Please, if you could tell Mother and Father, tell them-"

"I did my best to appease Father," he shrugged, "but really, I couldn't go on shouldering all the weight. You really did yourself in this time."

"No…," she frantically shook her head.

"Not to worry though, I'm sure Lucy will fill your spot nicely. Mother's already forgetting- our wedding is all she ever talks about," he smiled. "I suppose I had a dear sister at one point, but who are you now? I barely recognise you. You're…," he glanced over her, "not even a Lorn. Suffice to say, I'm happy you're gone," he laughed. "My only wish was," he loomed in close above as he peered down at her, "you had gone sooner."

A sound between a gasp and a choke caught in Elizabeth's throat. Those were things she would have expected from her brother, though they were usually in response to a sudden emotion in passing or out of jest. She'd never actually heard him utter phrases that were wishfully vindictive. What he said now was so callous, they were just as much as- if not even more- hurtful as her father's words.

Elizabeth sobbed beneath him as she turned her head to the side, feeling defeated, "If I had known…, I would have sooner for your own peace of minds." She looked back up at him, "I'm sorry…, for everything- whatever that may be," her sobbing grew louder. "I… I'm ever so sorry!"

Jon cackled at her despair, only to pull back into the darkness to be replaced by her father with his disapproving frown. He turned from her and also disappeared from her sight.

Drusilla leaned in and whispered by Elizabeth's ear, "In your heart, you shall believe and know these words to be true. Sweet dreams, lovey," she smiled before giving her a kiss on the cheek, then pulled herself off of her. Slipping back into her room, she shut the door behind her.

Elizabeth's crying persisted till they grew to soft weeping, and she fell into an uncomfortable and restless sleep. Though the visions that Drusilla had made her endure in that horrible and short moment had passed, Elizabeth would not remember any of it. Only the impression of their intent would be planted in her subconsciousness, rooting her beliefs that her family did not actually love or care for her. It was more than enough to make Elizabeth feel more isolated and alone than she presently was, forcing her to turn to anything resembling compassion and kindness.

┼†‡

**Day Forty-Six**

The previous day had left Elizabeth feeling exhausted, despite her turning in early. Drusilla's icy demeanour was also enough reason for Elizabeth to want to avoid her, but it did not shed light on her unexplainable feeling of sorrow. Perhaps Flossie's death had finally broken through her state of shock and she was mourning her now. Oddly and coldly enough, Elizabeth was not so consumed with grief as she thought she would have been, even though they were childhood friends. She was beginning to think that the cold blood in her was beginning to chill her heart, too.

As she descended the stairs, she sighed. Her plan was to hole herself up in the library for the rest of the day.

Just as she reached the main floor, she began to walk across the vestibule before something crashed down not a foot from where she stood. Elizabeth flinched back with a startled cry as she stared down at what lay at her feet- a jumble of blue cloth, small limbs, and scattered fragments of porcelain. She toed the doll over to see that it was Miss Corrine: its cracked face now a mess of smaller pieces, the body still intact, and its hair in tangles, held in place with a single blue ribbon.

Elizabeth swallowed as she knelt down to pick it up, seeing a miniature version of herself. Her brows turned up in confusion as to why it was dressed like her, and she could not deny the fear that began to set in her being at the sight of it.

"Li'l bird is unfit for muvah's nest."

Elizabeth snapped her head up to see Drusilla peering down at her from over the interior balcony.

For a moment that seemed to stretch on for hours, Drusilla stared down at Elizabeth with steely eyes before turning on her spot, leaving her with the mess of the broken doll.

The same fear that Drusilla had imposed on her the other day was stronger, even more terrifying at that moment. Elizabeth trembled, feeling like the air had been sucked out of the vast room and her lungs. She didn't understand what she had done to make Drusilla so upset with her. Was this her form of lashing out for having spoilt her plans for making Flossie and herself her sisters? This was not something Elizabeth intended to find out, feeling the pounding of the ground beneath her as she ran to the dark and quiet sanctuary of the library.

Her legs were still shaking as she climbed the stairs to the loft, and when her eyes set on the settee, they buckled beneath her as she sat down. Elizabeth pulled her legs up to her chest and wound her arms around her knees as she stared vacantly with large and hollow eyes in the darkness before her.


	39. Day 47: Auld Lang Syne

Entering the library, Angelus’ eyes quickly adjusted to the dimness to see flickering candlelight in the loft. A small smirk glimmered on his lips before he headed up.

Elizabeth was nose deep in her book, but at the sound of approaching footsteps, her back tensed. She immediately sat up and lowered the book to her lap as she peered out with round eyes, waiting for the intruder to reveal himself.

“Elizabeth?” Angelus called out. He weaved his way towards her, coming upon the sight of several stacks of books surrounding her, “You seem to have kept yourself busy.”

“Angelus,” she said with a relieved smile. She glanced to the books, “I have. There are many good works here. My French has been greatly improving,” happy as she might have appeared, the enthusiasm she usually held with the written word was a little lacking.

Angelus carefully treaded past her haphazard barrier and took a seat next to her, “Perhaps the next language you should learn should be Italian,” he smiled at her.

“Perhaps I should. It is such a beautiful language.”

“Have you only been preoccupying your time with reading? I apologise for my absence these past few days. Since the party, I’ve been keeping up appearances with Pierre, and it seems I’ve finally won him over. He has agreed to a partnership with me and has signed the papers. I just now need to wait for a response from his correspondences from overseas, that they are aware of these new changes. And then everything shall be… set in motion. You’ll be seeing much more of me now, I promise,” he smiled as he took hold of her hand and clasped it in his.

With her free hand, Elizabeth shut her book and let it rest in her lap. She kept her gaze downcast as she watched Angelus’ thumb stroke over the top of her knuckles, causing her to feel a slight flutter in her stomach and a small smile to appear on her lips, “I am glad for that.” She moved the book next to her on the cushion, seeming to keep herself mildly distracted before she spoke her next words. She swallowed, “For the past few days, I… have been so lonely,” she admitted softly, her tone dipping into sadness.

“Have William and Drusilla not been spending enough time with you?” Angelus asked, carefully watching her response. “I can understand with William’s case, but Dru, she dotes on you.”

Elizabeth’s small smile fell completely. “I… do not know what I have done, but Drusilla is angry with me,” her brows knit in confusion. “She has spoken to me so… disdainfully, saying I have been spoilt, that she sees spots on me….”

“She usually speaks nonsense,” Angelus said reassuringly.

“Just a few days ago, as I was crossing the vestibule towards the library, she dropped one of her dolls down at my feet, saying that ‘the little bird is unfit for its nest’....”

Angelus paused.

“The doll was dressed like me…. I… I don't know what I have done,” Elizabeth’s voice grew more agitated and confused as she spoke, and she began to tremble as her past fear made a return.

For a split second, Angelus’ brows raised ever so slightly, “That seems very unlike her,” he said, looking to Elizabeth; she raised her eyes to him, an expression of perplexity written clear across her face. “Whatever it is, I’m sure she’ll overcome it with time, just like before. She does go through odd and unexplainable phases. Sometimes we need to use force to make her stop. I know it sounds harsh, but she actually enjoys it,” Angelus justified. “Let me help you take your mind off some of these troubles. It is New Year’s Eve and there shall be some public fireworks on display. We can walk around and enjoy some champagne and have a piece of _panettone_ ,” he smiled at her as he held both of her hands in his. “How does that sound?”

Being soothed by his calming words, Elizabeth’s expression softened, “I would love nothing more,” she smiled. “Perhaps it would do me good to get out of this library for a little while,” she said with a soft sigh. Since Flossie’s death, she had felt like she had lost a piece of herself. She was slowly recovering from the shock and numbness, but Drusilla’s sudden and unprovoked malice towards her had sent her into a state of distress and fear, causing her to be more reclusive than she normally was. The library had always been her safe haven, but she had even been paranoid at the slightest sound when she was perched in the loft.

Angelus pulled her in close, cupping her face up with one hand as he kissed her gently on the lips, “I am glad to hear that.”

Elizabeth smiled, feeling herself relax even more in his proximity.

┼†‡

They had left the library, stealing into the early winter night in the tranquility of darkness. The streets were mostly vacant, with people having gone home to celebrate with family or friends, though there were a few rowdy few that took their celebrations to the streets.

As the night progressed, the pair found themselves on a terrace outside a hotel overlooking the cityscape and waters.

Angelus held a flute of champagne in his hand and handed one to Elizabeth, “We should start off this new year with a happy note,” he said. “What shall we toast to? ‘Blessings and happiness’?” he chuckled. “Perhaps those are little too generic. How about…,” he took a small step forward as he lowered his gaze, “I wish for us to cherish all the memories we have together, especially the ones we make in the future,” he smiled at her as he lifted his glass.

Elizabeth giggled a little as she peered up into his gaze, “That sounds wonderful,” she raised her glass in turn.

Spike’s and Drusilla’s cackling could be heard as they made their way out to the terrace.

“It appears they found their way here after all,” Angelus sighed lightly; Elizabeth’s cheeriness dimmed to a partial frown.

Not wishing for their presence to disturb his toast, Angelus continued on with a renewed smile, “To our future memories,” he clinked his glass against Elizabeth’s.

As he sipped at his champagne, he caught sight of Spike swooping forward with a bottle in hand as he danced with Drusilla in circles. To his left, Maurizio was with a small gathering of men; he nodded at him, seeing that everyone had shown up.

Pulling Elizabeth a little closer to him, Angelus escorted her towards the balcony rail, “This way,” he laughed, “it’s a better view.”

He led her around the bend of the building where it was more secluded; it was a perfect environment away from prying eyes. As they waited for the fireworks to start, Angelus glanced over his shoulder to ensure that they were alone before approaching her, “Well, now that we are alone,” he began, “though the view here is probably better, that’s not entirely the reason why I have you here,” he admitted, turning back to face her.

Turning to him as she sipped her wine, she looked at him a little in surprise. She lowered her glass, “It isn’t?”

“I… have something for you.”

Elizabeth grew more curious.

“It’s a symbol for my people, a sign of devotion,” he dug into his pocket and brought forth a small silver ring. In the centre was a heart with a crown on top of it, held between two hands with knots woven along the band. The band dipped with the bend of the heart.

Elizabeth’s gaze focused on the tiny object between his fingers.

“The hands represent friendship, the crown represents loyalty, and the heart… love,” Angelus looked to her almost bashfully. “I love you, Elizabeth. I want to show you my devotion. When you wear it with the heart pointing towards you on your right hand, it means you belong to someone. May… I?” he asked hesitantly.

A smile tugged at Elizabeth’s lips. She was speechless. Cheeks scarlet and eyes glossy, she had a hard time finding words to respond with before she nodded enthusiastically, “Y-yes!” she giggled. “Yes,” she repeated, her voice sounding a little more calm and affirmed as she held her hand out towards him.

His feelings for her had been shown through the care and affections he demonstrated, but Elizabeth wasn’t sure where the extent of it lay- till that moment. To have Angelus show his devotion in symbolic gesture made her feel that it was something much more than a relationship between a naive girl and a wise and patient mentor.

He loved her.

As she peered at at him, her smile shone with a youthful happiness she had never shown before.

Angelus smiled as he slipped the ring on her slender finger, “And now… you belong to me,” he whispered.

He glanced down at her and kissed her on the lips as the fireworks exploded in the background, marking the new year and their first kiss of a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Italian Translations**  
>  _panettone -_ Italian egg-enriched bread traditionally presented at Christmas. It is similar to a dry type of fruit cake containing raisins, other dried fruit, candied peels, and spices.


	40. Day 48: Meeting at Night

Maurizio had been a little anxious for the past few days since he had decided to stay home instead of leave for his trip. Since then, he thought that perhaps he had once again been misguided with the mixed and contradicting signals Elizabeth had been giving him. At one moment, she was kind as ever, congenial and sweet, but always appearing aloof and at a distance. Then at other times, she was bold and audacious- not at all at how she presented herself in the public eye.

He wondered if she only took to that in private, so he let her be. But still, even after such a big event at midnight on New Year's Eve, she had made no indication of her past transgressions, merely affording him a simple nod in his direction. Thinking he would find answers, he decided he would go to her directly.

It was midday when he found her about to head into the library.

"Excuse me, Elizabeth," he said as he walked forward with a little eagerness in his step.

Elizabeth stopped her cheerful humming to turn to her host. She was beaming with the glow of a woman in love.

"Might I have a word with you?" he lowered his voice when he stood in front of her.

"Yes, you may. Is something the matter?" she asked, detecting a slight urgency in the way he spoke.

Maurizio peered at her for a moment, but he came up just as confused- she was being kind and acting oblivious as ever. "You have been avoiding me," he stated. "I demand to know why," he searched her eyes.

She gaped at him at first, surprised at how demanding he was suddenly being. And without reason, she thought, blinking in confusion. Guilt soon followed after, seeing as she didn't understand his situation.

An apologetic look washed over her face, "Maurizio, I have not been avoiding you. Things have happened in my personal life that have made me feel… withdrawn as of late. It is because of this that I have been keeping to myself," she explained in a calm manner.

"Really? Is that the only reason?" his eyes drifted over her face as he scrutinised her, not believing her words. "It has been a week since the party, since you've given any hint towards me that you held my interest. Or are you just playing games again like the last time?" there was an edge to his voice that almost seemed like he had spat those words out.

Elizabeth's back straightened. Looking at him with all the confidence she could muster, she quietly held her ground, "I do not know what 'games' you are referring to. Up until a few months ago, the only men I have been around were my father and brother- save for some of my father's acquaintances. So forgive me if I lack the proper skills at interacting with the other sex. I do sincerely apologise if my kindness or friendliness were somehow misconstrued as something more- I really do. I mean no ill will at all," she said, trying to be polite and mindful of that sensitive subject, as well as his position as host and a man of his stature.

At that response, Maurizio's eyes hardened and he no longer held onto his gentlemanly convictions, "I was right all along; you really are a black hearted _vampire_ ," he said callously. "I don't ever wish to see you again. I'll make sure to avoid the library like the plague. Have a safe journey wherever you may travel next. I will be glad you'll be gone from my life," he said, turning on his spot to leave her there standing.

┼†‡

Like most of the events that occurred within the manor, there were usually at least a pair of silent eyes and ears that watched and listened without being seen or heard. Standing behind the bend of the hallway was Angelus, comfortably reclined back and hidden from view. He had been quietly listening to the entire exchange between the two below him. As Maurizio's temperament began to escalate, he remained unbothered and fixed in his position, feeling less inclined to run down to intervene. Instead, he seemed to find the lint on his sleeve far more fascinating as he plucked and brushed it off with a bit of nonchalance. Angelus raised his head at Maurizio's last onslaught of words which caused for an amused smile to quirk at the corner of his mouth. With the Frenchman stomping away, he waited for the remaining one to leave. He peered out over his shoulder to see Elizabeth unclenching her fist from her side. With a sigh and a shake of her head, she turned and continued towards the library.

Feeling no rush to hurry, Angelus bid his time till he could no longer hear their footsteps. Finally pushing himself off the wall, he made his way downstairs towards the parlour where he found Drusilla playing tea with her doll.

"Only tea for one this time?" he asked.

"I've pushed Miss Corrine out of the nest," Drusilla replied with a frown, "I don't know why." She continued to pour her invisible tea before glancing back up at Angelus, "Would you care for some, Daddy?"

"Not today, precious," he said, strolling in. He took a seat on the sofa and crossed his legs, "I have something for you to do, though."

"Yes?" she immediately perked up and smiled at him.

"Hmm," he canted his head as he peered at her, "such a lovely outfit. It's just missing… that little detail. Where's ye brooch? Put it on for me, won't you, dear? Then I'll let you know."

Drusilla nodded and pushed herself off the floor.

┼†‡

As she entered her room, she made a beeline towards her vanity and picked it up, then affixed it along the neckline of her gown. Her fingertips had barely left the pearlesque ebony when the life in her eyes vanished, glossing over as she peered out with a vacancy akin to someone under the spell of hypnosis. She smiled stiffly and slowly stepped forward.

┼†‡

"Do I look pretty, Daddy?" she entered the room with a little twirl.

"Pretty as a princess," he replied.

"Prettier than _her?_ "

"The prettiest."

Drusilla giggled at that and stopped in front of him as he stood.

"Now, Dru," Angelus smoothed his hands over her shoulders, "I'd like for you to give Maurizio one more message."

"Are we going to play snakes in the sheets again?"

"No, not this time, dear."

"Oh," she said with a little disappointment.

"I'd just like for you to tell him something."

Drusilla listened to his instructions carefully, making sure to memorise each syllable he uttered.

┼†‡

Later that evening, Drusilla set out with her sire's plan. She slipped into Maurizio's study, finding the man writing at his bureau. He lifted his head to her in surprise, and as soon as his eyes locked with hers, he was under her spell.

Maurizio blinked as his vision blurred. He rubbed at his eyes as he saw the figure of a woman coming towards him. When he regained focus, he realised that it was Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth?" he frowned and lowered his gaze back to his papers. "I thought my intentions were clear that I never wanted to see you again. Please, leave me be. I won't show you to the door."

She ignored his words as she approached him. With her cool palm against his face, she forced him to look up at her. "Maurizio…, _mon cher,_ " she cooed, sliding her hand slowly along his cheek.

Maurizio lowered his gaze to her hand as he drew in a shaky breath and ultimately shut his eyes, finally yielding to her touch. "No," taking hold of her wrist, he shook off his feelings with the shake of his head, "not any more. I've had enough of you toying around," he said firmly.

The imposter frowned as she brought her other hand to his face, caressing it gently as she watched his tension slowly ease up. When it appeared as though he had calmed down, she leaned in towards him. Crawling her fingers along to the back of his neck, she brought her lips down to his and kissed him hard and fervently. He was left breathless after she had pulled back.

"No more games, please," he whispered, his eyes barely opening.

"Come to my bedroom. Tonight," she whispered in French, reciting it exactly the way Angelus had instructed her to.

"We've never had encounters in your room before," Maurizio opened his eyes in surprise, "it is too close to the others. What if someone were to hear us?"

Drusilla stared unwaveringly at him and repeated her statement, "Come to my bedroom tonight."

"All right," he nodded.

She leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth again before she left him alone to his papers.

┼†‡

That night, when it had appeared everyone had gone to bed, Maurizio stole into Elizabeth's room as she had requested. Seeing her still form lying faced away in bed, he slipped underneath the covers and trailed his hand from over her waist to her hips, and downward still.

"I've come as requested, my love," he said quietly, nuzzling the delicate curvature of her neck before kissing it.

Being pulled from sleep, Elizabeth's brows knit together as she groaned softly. With her eyes still closed, she turned over and opened them. She blinked several times as her vision adjusted to the darkness and the face in front of her.

"M-Maurizio!" her eyes snapped open as the shock of him in her bed forced her wide awake. She shuffled back instinctively, "What are you doing here!" she asked with a startled cry, gripping the sheets to her chest.

Maurizio sat up and looked to her in alarm, obviously shocked and surprised at her apparent reaction, "You _told_ me to come to you!" he proclaimed in his defense, angry that he had to tell her when she was the vixen that had seduced him and orchestrated the entire thing.

Elizabeth whimpered as she shot out of bed, blinking back the tears that brimmed and dared to spill over. She turned to face him, "I said no such thing!" she cried, trembling out of fear and confusion.

"Are you denying me again?" his look of surprise turned into a scowl as he loomed closer towards her.

"'Again'? I have done nothing of the sort! Please, get out!" she yelled; she shuffled as far away from him and the bed as she could till she hit the dresser from behind her and let out a tiny gasp.

Maurizio flung the sheets off of him and abruptly got out of bed, "Is this another one of your games?" he hissed, his eyes glinting like sharp daggers. "Do you want me to stay or go?" he demanded, stalking towards her.

The dresser rattled as Elizabeth flinched, inevitably keeping her trapped in her spot like a cornered mouse.

"I can't tell with you! ' _Mon cher'_ \- that's what you call me, do you not?"

"I have never called you that! Please…-"

He touched her face like she had in his study, causing her to whimper as she flinched and turned away. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"And then you seduce me with your wiles," Maurizio traced his fingers over her cheek, "like _this_ ," he turned her head towards him and forced a kiss on her unwilling lips.

With his mouth clamped over hers, it muffled her scream.

She thought he was a respectable man, a kind and charming host and friend, but at that moment, all she felt was repulsed and disgusted by him. With her shock and fear growing, Elizabeth gripped his arms and pushed him off of her, sending him back against the mattress. Not bothering to see if she had caused him any harm, she bolted to the door, leaving it wide open after she had nearly flung it off its hinges. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the cuffs of her sleeves, now sobbing freely as she dashed half blindly down the hall. Finally stopping in front of a large double door, she knocked and waited.

┼†‡

Angelus had been expecting that knock.

He sat lounged in his bed as he toyed with the smallsword Elizabeth had given him for Christmas. He slipped it back into its sheath before getting up and setting it down on the dresser. Feigning being woken from sleep, he took his time and tousled his hair a bit. With his hand on the knob, he paused for a moment when the knock came again, this time more urgently.

He opened the door, "Elizabeth," he said in surprise, "what's wrong?" he moved aside to let her pass.

Visibly shaken, Elizabeth rushed in. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot as new tears spilled down her cheeks, "I-I was asleep…. I felt something… touching me, and I woke up and-and h-he was there," Elizabeth babbled through her sobs. "M-Maurizio was in my bed…," more tears fell from her eyes as she covered her face in shame.

Angelus moved forward and wrapped her into his arms. Holding her head against his chest, a small smile glimmered across his lips as he brushed the back of her hair. "That doesn't sound like him at all," he said, slipping back into character.

"He was speaking nonsense, of how I had invited him to my room and that I had… seduced him," she whispered.

Angelus' smirk returned, wider, and with more amusement.

"But I did no such thing!" Elizabeth pulled herself off his chest and shook her head fervently; Angelus' brows were creased with unease. "I told him to leave, but he got so angry that he-" she swallowed and licked her lips nervously as she averted her gaze, "that he… kissed me," she said quietly. "I pushed him away from me and ran over here." She peered up at him with worry, now shaking and weeping for different reasons other than the grief that Maurizio had caused her, "Are you… upset with me, Angelus?" her brows turned up as she saw the disappointment on his face, similar to how her father would look at her at times. "Please… believe me when I say I had no hand in any of this," she tried to explain, moving closer towards him. "There could never be another man, Angelus, I… I only love you!" her face crumpled as she sobbed harder.

Quiet and brooding, his expression was nearly unreadable. As Angelus looked to her, he slowly opened his arms, welcoming her in. Elizabeth immediately rushed forward and pressed herself tightly against his sturdy form.

With him learning what had transpired between her and Maurizio, Elizabeth had feared Angelus would find her loathsome and want nothing to do with her. But her fears were put to rest as he held her in his arms, strong and steady, while running a soothing and gentle hand along her back. She buried her face against his chest and wept openly out of relief as her shoulders shook.

"Shh… don't worry, Lizzy," Angelus said, "I'm here," he pulled her back so she could look at him.

Elizabeth peered up at him with round eyes; her tears had lessened, and her crying had subsided to a soft whimper. In his presence, she always felt safe and warm. She believed- knew without a doubt in her bones- that nothing bad would ever come to pass under his protection.

Angelus brushed some tears away with the back of his fingers, "If you wish, you can spend the night here with me," he said calmly, reassuring her with his steady gaze.

She lowered her eyes to her hands that she held to his chest, suddenly feeling her distress and fear gone with a flutter of timidity at his forward suggestion. Nervously fiddling with her ring, she nodded, "Thank you," she said quietly, suppressing the quiet thrill that she would be spending an entire night in his company.

Smiling, Angelus kissed her on the forehead, "You're welcome."

He took her by the hand and led her to the bed as she slowly shuffled behind him. As he turned down the sheets, Elizabeth quietly stood idle as she watched.

This isn't something two unmarried people should be doing, she thought, a consciousness of guilt creeping into her thoughts. She could already see the judging looks and leers from her mother and father, Jon, and peers if they were to catch wind of it.

"It's ready now," Angelus said, turning around after he plopped down a pillow.

Elizabeth's back straightened as she stared back, then shifted her sights to the grand bed behind him. She hesitated before taking a small step forward and paused again.

Angelus watched her and stood from the bed, "If it makes you more comfortable, I'll sleep on the floor."

"No!" Elizabeth blurted out, stopping him before he could move another inch away. She held his hand and stared up at him, her gaze unwavering, "Please, Angelus, stay with me," her cheeks were flush and her eyes starry. He merely smiled in response.

With their hands still linked, they climbed in bed together. Elizabeth lay down first, turning away to her side out of bashfulness and embarrassment at her own bold admission. The room was silent, save for the rustling of the sheets that she pulled up around her, and the creaking of the mattress as Angelus settled in behind her. When it finally grew quiet and still, Angelus encircled his arm around her body, pulling her in close to him from behind. Startled, Elizabeth stiffened, but slowly relaxed in his hold. Unlike her experience in her own room with Maurizio, this comforted and made her feel safe, almost like the warm and protective shield she was seeking at that very vulnerable moment.

It wasn't long before Elizabeth drifted off to sleep in Angelus' arms. And as she slept, Angelus smirked from behind her shoulder, his teeth glinting in the darkness. Closing his eyes, he saw his own visions coming into fruition.


	41. Day 49: The Tell-Tale Heart

Without the aid of morning sunlight shining on her face or Clara's wake up call, Elizabeth relied on her own body to lull her out of sleep. Intuitively, she managed to wake up each morning relatively early and about the same time due to routine. But, it was also due in part to the amount of running around her sire had put them through in the past month trying to relocate- albeit, secretly- Drusilla. That morning, as semi-lucidity returned to her, she took a moment before she slowly blinked open her eyes. Being used to the gloomy darkness, she wasn't so surprised to have her blinds drawn, but seeing the unfamiliar furnishings in the room was what alerted her. Even reminding herself that she was no longer in her own bedroom in London, did little to calm her, because this was not the guestroom she was used to.

Trying to push herself up, Elizabeth was stopped by the apparent weight that lay limp across her side. She paused as she flung the covers off to see that it belonged to a man's arm. With her panic building, Elizabeth rolled around with a jerk to see who it belonged to. Her wide eyes fell on the face of a sleeping Angelus, and in that instance, her mounting anxiety vanished.

She remembered now. How she had run to him distressed and crying after what had happened in her room with Maurizio. Even though that was the cause for being in the same bed with Angelus, she did not want to be reminded of it.

Elizabeth folded her arm beneath her head as she lay across from her love and watched him sleep. She tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear; she couldn't help but feel ashamed as she watched him. They had both admitted their devotion and love to each other, but she was gawking at him without his knowledge or consent. This was certainly not something she was taught as a lady.

Elizabeth lowered her eyes briefly with terse brows as she fiddled with her ring, winding it around her finger with her thumb. As she flicked her gaze back to his serene visage, she began to admire at how handsome he was, allowing her giddiness and excitement with their proximity to overshadow her guilt. She couldn't hide her gleam of happiness as she smiled across at him. Turning her head towards the pillow, she tried to stifle her laughter as she giggled to herself, only to bite down on her lip as she peered back up at him. A strand of hair had fallen across his face, and in that moment, Elizabeth had the daring thought to reach across to brush it back, just like she had done with her own.

She fell rigid as she began to speculate. She had to return to her room soon should her other sires or the keep happened to knock on Angelus' door- or even hers, for whatever reason. That wasn't gossip she wanted to fuel, especially with a host that was already livid with her for denying him. But if she were to just brush that ebony hair back from that chiselled jawline and angelic face, she'd have a bit more time in her quiet solitude to admire him. And if he were to wake up during that forward gesture?

Elizabeth continued to bite at her lip as her thoughts began to cause her more worry than the peace she found in his room. Timidly looking back up at him, she observed him for a moment before she was determined that he was completely unconscious, then, with a slow moving hand, she reached out. She paused mid air, her hesitation allowing her one more chance to withdraw her action to leave with some dignity- but she continued.

Her fingertips delicately touched the skin of his cheekbones- bones hardened and well formed underneath to create his handsome and masculine image, but his skin was smooth and cold to the touch. She lanced her hand forward, drawing more contact against her palm as she smoothed his hair back, combing it between her fingers and back over the side of his head. She felt the contour of his skull, and just graced that strong jawline that she so admired. His hair was like fibrous threads of dark silk, she marvelled, wanting to pull herself closer to him, just so she could examine him more intimately. She blushed as she let her hand trail along his cheek, feeling the impulsive need to bend forward and kiss him.

She wanted to stay in his arms and be near him, feel his touch, and hear the words that he spoke.

There was that flutter in her gut again, and that damned sensation between her legs, but there wasn't anything she could do to alleviate it. Whether it was a curse or not, it only happened when she was around Angelus, and for her to be away from his presence was a fate worse than anything she could now possibly imagine.

She wanted to kiss him, but she also wanted more.

Elizabeth directed her gaze to the clock on the nightstand over his shoulder- it was ten past nine, a time that was considered very late for her. Letting her grasp fall from his face, she gently slipped out from beneath his arm and out of bed with some reluctance. With a parting glance over her shoulder, she opened the door and stepped out.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Angelus opened his eyes with a knowing smirk.

┼†‡

Spike swung open his door with a yawn. With one hand clutching Drusilla's parasol, he stretched his other arm through the sleeve of his coat, then shrugged it on. He set his gaze across the hall when he had to do a double take at the sight of Elizabeth scurrying out across from his sire's room.

"What the bloody…-" he muttered to himself. "Not so quiet this morning, are you, mouse?" he called out.

Elizabeth halted with her hand on the knob as she stood at her door, her back straightening like someone had shoved a cold rod down the length of her nightgown. She glanced towards the ceiling with a roll of her eyes, wondering what she could have done to be punished by the likes of her sire's pending ridicule and harassment.

"'Thought he was only mentoring you in the art of killing."

Elizabeth didn't bother turning around, "He is-"

"Didn't think it extended to the bedroom- but of course, it is Angelus we're referrin' to here. 'Suppose you have replaced Darla's role after all," Spike quipped, giving her a little sneer. He reached into his room with his free hand and retrieved a leash.

Elizabeth scowled at her door and let out a hiss of a sigh, "I haven't a clue what you are talking about." Not waiting to see if he had any other unsolicited comments, she turned the knob as an attempt to enter her room.

Spike yanked the leash forward, bringing forth Drusilla's untouched meal from a couple nights prior; the poodle scuttled alongside him as he strolled forward. "What were you doing in there, _Liz?_ " Spike grinned at her widely from the side as he preempted her, managing to block her path with the length of Drusilla's frilly, black parasol.

Elizabeth let her hand fall to her side as he neared, hiding her exposed ring behind the loose folds of her gown.

"I wouldn't say you're at all that liberal. Still a virgin," he arched his brow suggestively, "right?"

She turned to him with scarlet cheeks, "Of course I am!" her eyes were wide with disbelief that he had even suggested such a thing. "If you must know, we stayed up all night talking, and I ended up falling asleep," she said with a slight glare and pout. It was only a half truth. The details of her and Angelus' conversation, however, did not concern her sire.

"'Course you did," Spike raised his brows, "wouldn't think anythin' else could have ever happened, seeing as you're such a prude," he continued. "Are you sure your talking didn't put him to sleep? I'm certain that must have been the case, as I can attest to that," he glanced over her, feeling as though she wasn't telling the entire truth as she had presented it.

That was the final straw, the last snivelling little quip Elizabeth would tolerate from her sire.

She moved the end of the parasol away with a firm hand, "If you could kindly remove your parasol from my way, I would greatly appreciate it." She turned the knob once more and finally pushed the door open, only to pause as she turned to him with a sweet smile, "I wouldn't want to break such a lovely and dainty thing." After she was in the safety of her room, she shut the door behind her with such a force, that it caused the poodle to shuffle backwards a few steps, and Spike to lean slightly away as he blinked.

Finally seeing where his boundaries lay, Spike turned on his spot to proceed with his duties, "Come along now, Maury," he tugged on the dog's leash.

┼†‡

Elizabeth pressed her palms flat against the door as she reclined back and let out a heavy sigh. Somehow, her sire always managed to spoil her perfect moods, even one that involved waking up in the morning with her love. And he had caused enough distraction that she had forgotten the dreadful events that had transpired in her room from the night before. She hadn't even thought about whether she had caused Maurizio any bodily harm in her state of panic; only wishing to flee from him, she hadn't considered her superhuman strength and the possible injury she could have- or might have- incurred.

Inhaling a shallow breath, she took a slow step forward. She counted each step quietly before stopping. With one more step, she would be in the view of her bed- and whether or not Maurizio- or his body- still lay there.

Elizabeth clenched her fists tightly by her sides and stepped forward, readying herself for whatever image that might be waiting for her.

With a sharp gasp, she stood taut in her position as she stared at the scene in front of her.

Her bed was empty.

She pressed a hand to her chest as she giggled nervously, "Oh, Elizabeth, you silly goose," she tapped at her forehead out of her own embarrassment.

The bed remained untouched- blanket rumpled and half hanging off the mattress, and pillows randomly set on any point on her vast bed.

Walking forward with more confidence, she felt some of the tension ease up on her shoulders, but not completely- and with reason. With her being alone in her room only meant that Maurizio was alive and still lurking around the manor. Seeing the state of her surroundings was a dark reminder of what had happened, and what could have possibly have happened. Even though he was human, he had caught her by surprise and still forced his hand. She knew she had the strength to kill him by just crushing his windpipe if she so chose to, but at the time, she was just a terrified little girl. Though she could not formulate the words of what might have come to pass if she hadn't resisted him, it reminded her of another, similar occurrence, but worse.

The image of her love's face appeared in her mind's eye, but there was a perversive and sinister gleam in his gaze as she watched him yank her towards him: " _Pretty, young t'ing, still a virgin, aren't you?"_

Elizabeth shook her head as she dismissed that past memory, realising that she had stopped making her bed with the distraction of her thoughts. She continued on as she scolded herself for even thinking Angelus in any form of negative light. He had explained to her that it was to keep her begrudging sire in check. It made logical sense for Angelus to use such an extreme and unconventional method because her sire was deaf to reason and discipline to things he deemed unimportant. Angelus had made him believe that he himself had made the decision of taking on his responsibility- that being Elizabeth- rather than Angelus inconspicuously enforcing his form of discipline. And it had worked. For the most part.

When she was done with her bed, Elizabeth cleaned herself up and put on a navy blue day dress. It was different from her typical style, but she particularly liked the striped ribbons of blues and horizontal pinstripes of copper and cream on the bustle, a pattern that was echoed on the front of the bodice and at the slight puffy shoulders of her sleeves. The silhouette was flattering, and the shimmer of the satin and silk fabric added more dimension with her curves, especially when it caught under light. She chose to dress her hair up in high plaits, where the braids descended downward and divided into thick ringlets down her back. Having a bit of fun that day as she embraced the French culture, she hoped that this look would please Angelus.

With a giddy step, she left her room to return to his inviting doors.

┼†‡

Angelus had since pulled himself up from bed as he readied himself for the day, giving himself a good wipe down, and dressing in a fine shirt and tie.

When he heard a soft knock not long after Elizabeth's departure, he glanced at his door as he ran a hand through his hair, "An eager little one," he hummed to himself. He opened the door and smiled to see Elizabeth in French couture, and her hair fashioned back like the locals, "Elizabeth, I noticed you gone when I had woken. Is everyt'ing all right, now?" he asked gently.

Elizabeth smiled up at him with a returning timidity as she nodded; stars shone in her eyes and pink tinged the apples of her cheeks, "I am still a little shaken, but I feel much better," she looked down at her hands as the lace trim on her cuffs tickled her skin. She toyed with her ring rather than biting her lip.

"I'm glad to hear t'at."

"Did… did you sleep well?" she asked quietly.

He smiled, "I did." He paused as he watched her, "Is there anything else that I can do for you?" he asked gently, giving her a small and supportive smile.

Elizabeth smiled warmly and clasped her hands in front of her, "O-oh, no. Well, unless… you would like to spend the day with me?" she asked tentatively, suddenly feeling a nervous flutter; she glanced up at him with hopeful eyes.

"I would love nothing more," he replied, taking her hand in his. "Just let me tie up some loose ends, first. I shall join you in a moment," he assured her.

Elizabeth nodded as relief washed over her features.

Leaning forward, Angelus planted a soft kiss on her lips before lifting her right hand and giving her another kiss by the Claddagh ring.

"In the loft," she said softly, almost swooning.

"Till then," he smiled.

"Till then," she echoed. Finally finding the nerve to break free from his touch and gaze, Elizabeth left for the library as Angelus watched her from his door.

┼†‡

Spike returned upstairs with the poodle in tow.

He hadn't expected Drusilla to keep the dog, thinking she'd make a light snack of it, but she seemed to have warmed up to the idea of having it around. And as a result, he had to agree with her, just to keep her happy.

He turned down the hall to notice Angelus leaning up against the doorframe of his room.

"So, you've been reduced to being a dog walker?" Angelus said with a smirk as Spike began to pass by.

Spike stopped short in front of him and pivoted on his spot, "So, you've been reduced to being a prostitute?" he said dryly.

"I don't get paid doing those services," Angelus smiled, "I consider it… a form of charity, if you will."

Spike scoffed.

"You worried I sullied the poor little saint?" Angelus peered at him.

"I know you didn't. She might be keen on you, but you don't hold that same sort of interest with her," Spike said, being the observant eye that he was- but apparently, not quite enough. "What was she doing in your room anyway, Angelus?" Though his sire and progeny hadn't been intimate, Spike was curious.

"Oh, she was upset and crying," Angelus scooped his hands behind his back as he raised his brows and shrugged a little, "seems as though Maurizio got a little too carried away and attempted to have his way with her in her own room last night."

"What…?" Spike's eyes slowly widened, being completely thrown off by that sudden news. He took a terse step forward, "Did he-"

"No," Angelus replied, "she left him before he could," he chuckled a little.

"What kind of a _bloody_ host throws himself at his own guest!" Spike growled, disliking the Frenchman even more.

"Hmm, seems he's mistaken her for someone else," Angelus shrugged.

Spike suddenly felt a nervous flutter in his gut as he stared at his sire; he remained silent, not knowing what to make of that. Giving Angelus one last look of uncertainty, he tugged on the dog's leash and returned to his room.

┼†‡

Being preoccupied with his thoughts, Spike shut the door behind him as his gaze remained downcast. He removed the leash from the dog and let it run forward when Drusilla called to it.

"Maury, come to Mummy," she cooed as she knelt down to pick it up.

Spike slowly moved forward with his brows knitted in thought.

"Did Maury make Daddy chase him around the yard? Is that why he looks so glum?" Drusilla lifted the dog's paw and waved it at him.

"Angelus just told me the Nicoise tried to have his way with Elizabeth," he looked up at her, "but he said he had mistaken her for someone else."

Drusilla made faces at the dog as Spike spoke.

"Do you know what he means by that? Drusilla!" his voice rose at her name as he tried to get her attention.

She looked at him.

Spike suddenly felt a lump in his throat and he tried to swallow. "Do you know… who Maurizio was looking for?" he chose his words carefully as a cold sweat started to break at his brow.

"He was lookin' for Elizabeth," she replied in all seriousness.

Spike felt relief wash over him- that was until Drusilla started to giggle as she covered her mouth with one of the dog's ears.

"Dru… what did you do…?" the unease returned to his stomach.

"She deserved it!" she spat. "She's been takin' up all of your and Daddy's time," she pouted. "All she ever did was show up, and she gets pretty dresses made for her. She gets treated like a princess," she turned to Spike with her continued pout, "and has you for her Daddy. Do you spoil her, William?" she stood with the dog in her arms as she took a step forward. "Do you give her treats when she's good?" she frowned at him as she placed a hand on his chest.

"What the bloody hell did you do, Dru?" Spike repeated, feeling a heat rise in him.

"Had to get her outta the way," she whined, "better to throw her out wit' the likes of Maury. Had to make him believe she fancied him, had to be convincing. Daddy doesn't treat me like the way he does her, neither," she shook her head with furrowed brows as she shifted her focus to the dog and began to tend to it.

It was like someone had thrown a punch to his gut; Spike started to heave, "You… had relations with him?"

"She had you all to herself, and then she started takin' up time with Daddy," Drusilla continued to ramble, playing with the dog's paws.

"You had _intimate relations_ with him?" Spike repeated louder, the venom seeping into his voice.

"I had to! He had to believe it was her!" she cried, lifting her head to face him. "Only way to make her go."

"You… bloody _let…_ another man _touch_ you, because you were jealous of Elizabeth spending a little more _time_ with me and Angelus?" Spike yelled incredulously.

It made perfect sense now. The times Drusilla had left, when she was 'hungry' for something else- she had been sneaking off to Maurizio's bed.

"How could you _do_ this to me, Drusilla!" Spike grabbed her shoulders and shook her, trying to make her realise the hurt she had caused him.

The poodle darted it's head between them and yelped.

"What's gotten into you?" Spike pulled Drusilla in close as he peered down at her face. "You've always doted on her! Now you're acting like some jealous wife! It's like you're possessed!" Just then, Spike's eye caught the glint of the snake brooch she was wearing by her collar. It hadn't occurred to him before now, but at the time when she had first worn it, she hadn't been in close proximity to Elizabeth to show the effects of the deadly sin at work. But when she was near her, all Drusilla seemed to be motivated by was the conviction of her envy.

Spike snatched the brooch off, "Bloody works of a _sin!_ " he growled and threw it into the roaring fireplace to his side.

In that instance, two things occurred simultaneously: with the item removed, a misty veil from Drusilla's eyes was lifted, and a clearness and spark returned to them; she gasped as she dropped the yelping and whining dog to the floor and touched at her chest. Drusilla's gaze lowered to the floor as realisation struck her features, then slowly trailed back up to meet Spike's glare, "William," she said softly as she frowned, now returned to her normal self.

"I can forgive you for doing what you did because you were under a spell," Spike said, "but as for _him_ , he's _dead!_ "

He left Drusilla standing in the room as the dog continued to whine and yelp from the floor.

┼†‡

Spike burst through Angelus' door, pausing to see him with his sword in hand. "You _knew_ , didn't you!" Spike growled as he marched in.

"Oh?" Angelus glanced up at him as he pulled the blade out a bit to reveal the shiny and sharp edge.

"Drusilla and Maurio were… _fucking,_ and you didn't do anything about it!"

"Were they?" Angelus' brows raised with surprise. "Couldn't stop them if I tried," he shrugged with a little indifference as he minded his toy.

Grabbing the sword from Angelus' grasp, Spike unsheathed it in one fell swoop and began to march out.

"Where are you going with t'at, William?" Angelus called after him, not seeming to want to stop him.

"I'm going to _kill_ him!"

┼†‡

There was purpose in Spike's steps. Unlike his usual juvenile antics, his mind was focused, and only filled with one goal in mind.

With the blade pointed downward and cast away from his body, Spike let it swing with the natural movement of his arms.

He continued upstairs towards the study, knowing that Maurizio usually tended to whatever the hell he did there. Luckily, he didn't have to go far when he caught sight of him walking down the hall towards him.

Spike grinned darkly, "Hello there, _Maury_."

Maurizio stopped dead in his tracks as he looked to him in alarm, then darted his gaze down to the sword in his hand. With widened eyes, he flicked his eyes back up nervously at the man in front of him, "W-what is going on…?" he asked in French.

"I'm going to send you on an early journey," Spike replied in English, "to your death," he sneered, " _à la mort._ "

Maurizio blanched before looking back to the sword. He suddenly dashed forward, trying to distance himself from him as he tried to run past, "H-help! Someone!" he yelled.

Spike slowly turned and laughed menacingly as he watched him go, "I've got aaaall day!" he called out, sauntering after.

Maurizio quickly fumbled down to the second floor as Spike slowly followed. Periodically looking over his shoulder, he began to descend the stairs to the main floor.

Spike walked to the interior balcony as he watched Maurizio scurry down below him. Resting a hand on the guardrail, he waited for the appropriate time for his next move, then tightened his grip on the rail before vaulting himself over it. Using the man's body as a buffer to break his fall, there was a loud thud as Spike landed down on top of him. Maurizio's groan was muffled as he was thrown face first to the floor.

"P-please!" Maurizio grimaced with pain as he rolled over onto his back. "What do you want from me? Money?" he raised a protective hand up towards Spike as he tried to push himself away against his back. "Name your price! I'll give it to you!"

Spike rose to his full height and took a slow step forward, closing the gap that Maurizio had created. For a moment, he did nothing but stare blankly at his human host as he let him ramble. Then, taking the hilt in both hands, he raised the sword high up over his head as he towered over him.

"No, no, _no!_ "

Maurizio's words were cut short to sputtering when Spike plunged the blade down deep into his chest. Blood spurted out from his mouth as he grimaced in pain.

Canting his head, Spike dragged the blade up and forward through Maurizio's chest before removing it. He switched the smallsword to his right hand as he knelt down, watching his host gurgle as he miraculously remained conscious throughout that entire ordeal. Blood pooled down the sides of Maurizio's jaw and neck, and in a coughing fit, he spattered flecks of red on Spike's face and shirt. Spike narrowed his eyes at him briefly before proceeding onward. Ignoring the man's increasing cries, he dug his left hand into the gaping wound and blindly reached for his warm and pulsating heart.

Spike ripped it out and held it to the dying man's face for him to see, "Don't need this anymore, do you?" Spike watched as Maurizio's eyes dimmed and grew still.

Drusilla walked into the vestibule slowly to behold the bloody sight that her lover had made. She gasped softly, "So much red… so much red…."

Spike's hands were both dipped crimson, but there was blood extending all the way to his elbow on his left arm. The warm and sticky mess clung to his front in splashes that fell to his thighs; it had painted the ends of his shirt and coat when he had bent over Maurizio, and left rounded caps from the still pooling blood where he had knelt at his knees.

With blade still in his grasp, Spike stood unheeded in his mess and madness and held the heart out to Drusilla, "For you, love," he said without inflection, still numb and hurt from the infidelities she had committed, "you can have a bloody heart."

Drusilla walked up to him as a small smile played on her lips. She slowly cupped her hands over the organ, "I can still feel it beating," she moaned. Lifting it from Spike's reach, she held it to her face and closed her eyes before bringing it to her mouth. She suckled the blood that had been trapped within the valves, smearing blood across her mouth and lower jaw, "It's warm," she moaned pleasurably. She looked at Spike as she smiled, "My little Spike, making sticky red messes."

Spike turned his body towards her, "What did you say?"

She giggled and sang, "My. Little. Spike."

Three beads of blood slowly dripped off the tip of the blade and spattered by their feet, just right before Spike let the sword clatter to the marble floor. He stepped towards Drusilla and tugged her in close; she gave a thrilled yelp. "Say it again," he said with a glint in his eye; he kept his hand pressed against her lower back.

She leaned in close by his ear, " _Spike_ ," she whispered loudly. Moving back, she beamed at him like a proud a mother.

A broad grin spread across Spike's face and he giggled. His look of amusement soon simmered into smouldering as he placed a firm hand by the side of Drusilla's face and moved forward towards her. He kissed her passionately on her bloodied mouth, "That's what I've been waitin' to hear," he gasped, a smirk stretching out again. "I love it."

┼†‡

While Elizabeth waited for Angelus, she managed to tidy up her nook, and organised her books.

She remained in high spirits, thinking up possible things they could do together out in the city. Exploring Nice during daylight rather than at night would be a completely different experience for her, and just the notion of it made Elizabeth excited. She wanted to play the role of a proper tourist, throwing caution to the wind as she'd let Angelus and the recommendations of the locals guide her- though she wasn't going to leave her itinerary totally void of plans.

She allowed the exception of a few choice places she had in mind that she wanted to see: The Bay of Angels, for one, a place that was associated with the legend of Sainte Réparate, a tale that Angelus had shared with her at Mass, at the cathedral that was also named in her honour. She wanted to bring a sense of tangibility to the young heroine's story, and perhaps, she felt somewhat of a more personal connection to her story, as well.

They would follow up with an unhurried and 'unplanned' trip to the market place with the remaining daylight, blending in with the normalcy of everyday life as they would observe the bustle of the locals and how they would behave during their daily routines. Finding a place to rest and dine for a warm meal would be ideal, especially when Elizabeth was always welcome to trying new confectionaries and sweets. That, particularly, was an area in which she did not shy away from being adventurous. Exploring unique sites by commendation would be flitted throughout their activities, and as the day ended, their outing would yet come to a close with the night. Other than the obvious reason with them being vampires, Elizabeth had an obscure and unrealised thought, one that set her nerves in bundles and knots.

She would make the bold suggestion to Angelus that they extend their time alone together at a hotel, away from the manor, away from prying ears and eyes, her sire and Drusilla, and Maurizio.

It was in poor taste for a lady to exhibit such impudent behaviour, and she knew exactly what it was to behave like a reputable lady- genteel, soft spoken, quiet, amenable- she had been doing that all her life. The act of being alone in a room with a man was even frowned upon, but the implications of her proposal were beyond worse- they were a damnable sin. The time alone she had hoped to spend with Angelus was not only to keep him in her company. She had already given him her heart and mind, and now she was ready to give him her body.

She had known that her body was telling her it was ready for his touch, but she, herself, wasn't ready at that time. It was not because of her religion, moral upbringing, or even keeping chaste, it was because she wanted to be sure her decision was based on her heart and not influenced by the desires of her body's urges. Angelus had proven to her time and again that he didn't have any ulterior motives. She was now estranged from her family, so he wasn't after her wealth- though that probably didn't even apply or bother him, considering he appeared well off himself. And he had never once taken advantage of her at the times she was most vulnerable- once drunk and injured, and another, shaken and distressed. All he had done was hold her in his arms till she had calmed down and fallen asleep. Undeniable trust and welcome safety was all she ever felt in his company. Never once had he pressured her to do anything she didn't want to do, unlike her brash and loud sire. Angelus was a virtuous man, chivalrous, and someone with integrity. He had proven himself to her by just being himself, and seeing all of this fueled her love for him even more.

Again, the voices in her head reminded her how she would be judged lying with a man before marriage, but Elizabeth was already beyond redemption with all the horrendous string of killings she had committed. She would have normally drowned in the guilt of her thoughts and conscience and the inherent shame that people would condone her with with this knowledge, but she was far removed from that part of her life now. The last person she knew from her former life she had killed with her own hands; there was nothing that she did now that had any connection to her family or could bring shame to their name. Doing this couldn't possibly be so terrible, especially if it was an act out of love.

Elizabeth idly traced the ring on her finger as a soft smile appeared on her lips, being reminded that it was Angelus' pledge of love to her each time she looked at it. She felt warm and giddy alone with the silence and her thoughts, when the distant sound of a man yelling snapped her out of her bliss. Setting the book aside from her lap, she rose and followed the commotion.

The voice became more discernible as she left the library and drew closer- she recognised that it was Maurizio.

" _...Name your price! I'll give it to you!"_

Elizabeth frowned at this- what did he mean? He sounded like he was under threat.

" _Money is no object! You can have it all- just take it! Please! P-please- d-don't- No! No, no, no!"_ His cries grew increasingly louder and incessant. It was followed by a blood curdling moan, and the sound of sputtering.

Elizabeth stopped partway down the hall.

For what was only a moment, time appeared to stand still as things grew quiet, then she heard another voice. It was her sire, but she couldn't make out his words.

She took in a nervous breath and stepped forward with caution. That was before she heard Drusilla join him. Still unable to make out their words, Elizabeth strained her ears, but she noticed there was something different in the way they spoke.

Finally reaching the end of the hallway before entering the vestibule, Elizabeth heard her sire's infamous cackle. She drew in a breath. As she pushed forward, she came upon the gruesome sight of Maurizio lying dead in the middle of the white marble floor, eviscerated, and a growing pool of blood beneath him. Her gaze drifted to her sires, laughing and in each other's arms, not two steps away from the man's cooling corpse; his heart was clutched in Drusilla's hand; and the murder weapon, the smallsword that she had given to Angelus as a Christmas present, lay at their feet.

Her eyes trailed back to Maurizio, "You killed him," her voice was soft, but not condemning; she tried to hide her small amount of relief.

At the sound of her voice, Spike and Drusilla turned to look at her.

"How nice of you to finally join us, Liz," Spike smirked. "That I did."

Before any more words could be exchanged, there came a shrill scream.

Their attention was turned to the end of the hall where one of the maids had come upon their scene. She backed away with her hands nervously covering her mouth. Her eyes were wide and filled with terror as she heaved at the sight of her gutted and dead master.

"Kill her," came Angelus' calm and commanding voice.

Spike and Drusilla turned to glance at him from across the room as he walked in without noise; Elizabeth watched him from where she remained standing.

"Kill them all."

Spike grinned at his sire, "It's about _bloody_ time, Angelus!" he laughed. He transformed his face and lunged after the girl as she turned on her spot, catching her before she could take two steps.

Drusilla trailed after him, as she too, put on her vampire guise. Letting the heart fall from her grasp, she giggled as she joined her lover. After Spike had made short of the maid, they took off towards the kitchen to pick off the staff before finding their way towards the servants' quarters.

There was no outcry of protest from Elizabeth, nor did she attempt to stop her sires from their murderous rampages. Instead, she stood rather calm and collected, only to watch them leave with an indecipherable expression written on her face. With them gone from the room, Elizabeth turned her attention back to the unavoidable subject at hand. She moved slowly towards Maurizio's body as she kept her eyes on his vacant and unfocused stare.

Angelus quietly observed Elizabeth as she studied the scene of the dead man. There was an inevitable change in her.

Standing just above him, she looked down at Maurizio's face as a barely present smile touched at her lips. She hadn't been the one that killed him, but she took a deep satisfaction in his death as though she had.

Turning away from the body, Elizabeth smiled at Angelus, despite the chorus of screams that rang in the background.

He walked towards her and returned the warm smile, "Lizzy, dear, are you happy with the results?" he asked, thinking she probably found the man's death justified.

Elizabeth's smile was demure as she nodded once in response.

Angelus glanced down at his former friend, "A pity for poor Maurizio," he sighed lightly; Elizabeth followed his gaze but expressed no sympathy. Angelus looked back up at her, "As for his staff, there is no other way. Their words would spread like wildfire. If anyone were to catch wind of us, we'd be driven out and hunted from here. For the time being, this will allow us the time and leisure to stay for as long as we please," he smiled.

"I understand," Elizabeth lifted her head to face him. "It is… unfortunate," her brows bowed lightly at this as she lowered her gaze again, "but I understand," she said gently.

"Good. Now," Angelus touched the side of her face and raised her head, making her face him, "we have things to take care of, don't we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French Translations**  
>  _à la mort -_ to death


	42. Day 50-53: The Tyger

**Day Fifty**

The manor was strewn with bodies; blood streaked the floors and spattered the walls. This did little to faze Angelus, as he walked with ease past severed limbs and eviscerated organs. The second floor was at least clear of the mess the four had made.

That night was like no other as he continued his mentorship with Elizabeth, taking her out into the heart of the city. It was an area they had previously visited, though with the colder season, the streets were more vacant. Elizabeth had already finished with her feeding, but it appeared as though Angelus had plans to take her elsewhere.

“Lovely night out, isn’t it?” he said to her, smiling. “Did he make a nice meal, Lizzy? Or do you have room for one more?” he chuckled lightly.

Walking by his side, Elizabeth glanced up at him with a smile, “He was quite satisfying.” She swept a fleeting glance around her, “Where are we heading?” she asked, turning back to him curiously.

“A place you’ll find most memorable,” he smiled.

As they neared, the facade of the shop became clearer- it was the butchery, the first place Angelus and Spike had watched Elizabeth kill mercilessly, and had recognised her to be a ruthless killer.

Elizabeth’s cheerful smile dimmed as the shop came into view.

“Thought it’d be nice to revisit one of our first memories together,” Angelus smiled.

Despite Elizabeth’s discovery of the butcher’s crimes, the shop had not been condemned and remained open.

“It appears someone’s inside,” Angelus noted, seeing a light from within. He moved closer, unavoidably pulling her along with him.

Elizabeth no longer held any traces of delight she had moments before, “How can this place still exist?” she asked quietly, her eyes wide and round as she stared at the shop before her.

“Hmm, that does appear to be an odd development, doesn’t it?” Angelus mused. He brought her next to him as he peered into the window. From inside, a man could be seen moving around. “Shall we go and ask?” Angelus glanced to her curiously.

With brows gently bowed, Elizabeth turned her head sharply towards him. In her silence, she had a moment of hesitation as her eyes lowered, and as if Angelus had read that as her reply of agreement, he moved forward, guiding her around to the backdoor.

┼†‡

Angelus tested the handle. Finding that it turned, he pushed against the door; it slowly swung open with a low moaning creak.

The interior was dark, save for the single flickering light from the other room where the man’s shuffling could be heard. Angelus made a quick assessment of the room before he took a step in, leaving Elizabeth to follow in his footsteps. He walked slowly and soundlessly till he was met with the sight of the man’s back.

Elizabeth stood partially hidden behind Angelus’ towering figure, peering past him as she observed the man hunching over, shoulders tensed, and his motions jerky as he haphazardly tossed objects into a sack he held gripped in his other hand. She held reservations about feeling slightly uncomfortable about the shop, and found it even odd how Angelus seemed insistent about finding answers as to why it remained uncondemned, but she believed he had legitimate reasons. She had to admit, however, that she was curious herself.

The man hadn’t realised he had company with him till he turned around. The sight of the ghostly looking pair caused him to drop the sack as he gaped at them and pressed himself against the back of the counter.

Almost mirroring his look of shock, Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath as his face was revealed.

It was the same man. The same man she had killed.

Elizabeth darted her eyes to Angelus in confusion, as though he held some explanation as to how or why he wasn’t dead.

“What are you two doing in here?” the man scowled. “The shop is closed.”

Angelus appeared indifferent at this revelation, “We were just curious about the previous owner. We had heard some unsavoury things.”

The man grew quiet and frowned as he looked away, “He was my brother,” he bent down to retrieve his sack before standing, “he did not run an honest business, but he did not deserve what happened to him,” he glanced back up at them.

Elizabeth felt a calmness return to her, but she could not help but feel unsettled by the man’s appearance. She took a small step forward, bringing her more into the candlelight as she nodded, “We have heard. Forgive us for the intrusion. My condolences for your loss,” she said with a small and sympathetic smile. Recovering quickly from her initial reaction, Elizabeth relied on her ability of quick wit and impromptu acting in the given situations, matching a persona of a concerned young woman to a brother of grieving.

“So, it’s true?” Angelus probed.

The man turned to him warily, “Unfortunately, yes,” he sighed lightly. “He didn’t use real beef, pork, lamb, fowl- it was whatever vermin he could find that was free and would willingly die in his traps. Rat was a rather popular item, and I’m sure he had made more than one person sick from it,” he continued as he threw more things into the sack.

As she listened, Elizabeth lowered her eyes and blinked, trying her best to hold back her disbelief. She was adamant she had remembered seeing human limbs in that bag! Fingers slim and white, thin wrists… she remembered a slight thread of a glimmer around one, indication of a still attached bracelet. But what was most revealing about this, was that they had been women. From the size of their hands, they had possibly been very young, eighteen at the most.

With the conflict she felt, she also felt a void where her guilt should have been, filled with something that was almost akin to anger that she may have been wrong. “Please, excuse me,” she said quietly. Covering her hand over her mouth, she turned on her spot and left the shop to stand outside, giving the impression that the truth behind the business was too much for a lady to bear.

Angelus let a small smile peek through as he watched her leave.

┼†‡

Standing in the cool night air, Elizabeth combed through her memories for any fault in her actions, but found none. It was clearly apparent that given the details from the grieving brother, Elizabeth had made an egregious error.

“Are you all right, Lizzy?” Angelus said tentatively from behind her. “If what he says is true, what you did was an honest mistake,” he reasoned, touching her shoulder. “You didn’t know; you mistook what you saw for something else. Who could blame you? He was already acting so suspicious.”

With a sigh, she nodded, “I suppose you're right,” she said softly. All Elizabeth could do was give in to the idea that she had been wrong- though a part of her remained doubtful. She lifted her head to him with a renewed smile, “Can we continue our walk? Go back to the water perhaps?”

“Whatever you desire,” Angelus smiled.

┼†‡

**Day Fifty-One to Fifty-Two**

As the following days progressed, Angelus let that strange occurence play at the back of Elizabeth’s mind as they proceeded to go about their usual business.

Now that they were the new proprietors of the Nicoise’s estate, Spike and Drusilla were rarely scarce, running amuck the manor as they pleased. A tension between Spike and Angelus had also seemed to have been lifted, now that their senior had finally allowed them to go about their ways without restraint.

Though Angelus’ true intentions weren’t yet revealed, Spike didn’t care so much to ask him any more.

┼†‡

**Day Fifty-Three**

Four days since Maurizio’s murder, Angelus was called to Pierre’s for some formal business arrangements.

“I suspect you bear good news?” Angelus said to his new business partner.

“I do,” Pierre replied as he settled himself down in his seat behind his desk. “Would you like a seat?” he asked, gesturing to the chair across from him.

“No, thank you. Standing is fine. Please, go on,” Angelus replied curtly, eager to hear his response.

“As you know, I sent the paperwork last week. And this morning, I have just received a letter with their signatures that they are in acknowledgement of the changes,” Pierre smiled.

Angelus folded his hands in front of him, “So, they are aware of our partnership? And in case any death befalls any of the larger shareholders, I’ll be the sole benefactor and receive full ownership?” he smiled teasingly, taking a small step forward.

Pierre laughed, “Yes, that is the case. I’m not entirely sure what your obsession is with this legendary diamond of ‘God’s Wrath’. A fist sized gem capable of puncturing a hole into hell’s descent doesn’t sound very likely,” he laughed.

“I find it… fascinating,” Angelus continued to smile.

“Whatever the case, I am glad to have you on board, Angelus,” Pierre stretched his arm out for a handshake.

Angelus took hold of his hand and gripped it tight as he leaned forward, suddenly jerking the man upward and forward towards him, “I wholeheartedly agree,” he grinned in his vampire guise.

The man stared at him in shock, speechless and fearful before the demon sank his teeth into his neck and bled him dry.

Angelus cast his corpse aside carelessly as he took new ownership of the seat he had previously been in and propped his legs atop of the desk. Taking hold of the letter Pierre had spoken of, he gleaned over the details before tucking it into his inner coat pocket. He left the study and casually strolled down the hallway before he was met by a voice.

“Angelus?”

He turned around to see that it was Maddelena. “Hello, my dear,” he smiled.

She stepped forward tentatively with a small frown touching her brows, “We haven’t spoken since the party,” she said carefully with a lowered voice.

“It has been a long while, hasn’t it?”

“It has been two weeks,” she said, looking up at him. “Are we no longer having an affair? Is it because Pierre has signed the agreement that you now fear he’ll sever the contract?”

Angelus laughed, “No, that wasn’t the case at all,” he stroked a finger over a loose curl off her shoulder. “I didn’t see much purpose with coming to your beck and call. I only found it reasonable to keep his wife happy and pleased at the same time as keeping to his good graces.”

She looked to him in surprise, “What… are you saying…?” she said, her eyes widening in shock and hurt.

Angelus shrugged a bit with nonchalance, “As long as I kept both parties happy, it was the only way he’d allow me to sign his life away- quite literally, in fact,” he cackled at the last part.

Maddelena took a step away from him, suddenly feeling threatened and fearful from the way he was behaving, “I don’t know what has gotten into you, but please, leave now!” she demanded, her voice rising a little.

“Aww, what’s wrong, Maddelena?” Angelus canted his head to the side as he peered at her, taking a slow and menacing step forward. “You want me to leave? All you ever begged was for me to stay. To have me between your legs,” he grabbed hold of her and pressed her against his chest, “to take you away from your bore of a husband.”

She whimpered a bit at his sudden callous behaviour, “L-let go of me! You’re hurting me!” she cried, her eyes getting glassy.

“You’ll be happy to learn I’ve fulfilled one of your wishes. He’s dead,” he laughed.

“What…?” she whispered, her brows stitching together. “You’ve… you’ve killed my Pierre?” she began to heave as she squirmed. “You monster! Get away from me! You’ve killed him!” she screamed, her anguish now made apparent as tears streamed down her face.

Angelus laughed as he held fast to her wrists, “Oh, dear, you’ve never been more right,” he snapped her upright to make her face him, forcing her to stare at his true form of ridged brow and gleaming yellow eyes; his jagged teeth peeking past cruelly, smirking lips, “I _am_ a monster,” he cackled.

She screamed as he pulled her down onto the floor and tore at her clothes. He laughed at her struggles and cries, finding it amusing as he raped her and finally ended her life by suckling at her neck and thigh, then tearing out her throat. He made sure her death was a slow one, something that was much more cruel than what Spike and Drusilla had made short of Maurizio’s household.

Killing the few witnesses that had seen him, he left their residence without a second thought.


	43. Day 54: Sonnet XVIII

“Lizzy,” Angelus came forward towards Elizabeth where she sat tucked away in her nook. With the events that transpired the day before, his entire persona flawlessly reverted back to one that was sweet and gentle.

Elizabeth glanced up from her book with a smile, letting the cover close within her grasp as she waited for him to approach her.

A smile gleamed across Angelus’ face, almost excited in a quiet and suppressed sort of way. He sat down next to her and took her hand.

“Angelus?” her voice rose into an inquisitive question, wondering why he seemed in such high spirits.

He clasped both hands with hers as he stared into her eyes, “I know a lot has happened this past week. Most of it… being nothing short from shocking. But, I want to assure you, this will all pass eventually, and we’ll find some normalcy in this newfound lives of ours. Together,” he smiled. Lowering his gaze, his expression grew more serious, “I… I need to know something,” he said a little more quietly before looking back up at her. “Do you love me?” he asked, searching her eyes. “Do you… trust me?” he implored, a slight tension touching his brows.

“Of course I trust you, Angelus,” she said softly, concern sweeping across her features. “ I love you,” her voice was just a little above a whisper.

Angelus’ smile broadened, “You don’t know how happy that makes me,” he seemed to sigh in relief. He glanced down at their clasped hands, “Hearing you say that only reassures me…,” he glanced up at her, “what I would like to ask you.” He paused as he searched her eyes, “ Eternity is too short a time when I'm with you, and an eternity without. Grant me the honour to spend the rest of my immortal existence with you,” he said, echoing the words of his junior. “Marry me, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in surprise; these were not words she had been anticipating. It took her a moment for his question to register before she blinked and her eyes glossed over, “Angelus… yes…, yes!” her look of shock dissolved into a delightful smile that only grew wider; she nodded fervently. In her living life, she had been under the impression that marriage was a cold, contractual agreement. The pressure of her parents’ arranged engagement for her made her feel like she was a prized horse being sold off to the highest bidder. This, however, was entirely different. Angelus was her fairy tale prince plucked out from the pages of her childhood books brought to life. He was caring and passionate, and his love for her was what made her believe marriage could be made from a foundation of true love.

Angelus smiled at her before taking hold of her right hand and gently pulling off her ring. “When one gets engaged, the ring gets worn on the left hand,” he said, replacing it onto her left ring finger.

Elizabeth watched him do this through the tears of joy welling up in her eyes.

He smiled up at her and moved in, kissing her gently on the lips. “You have no idea how much this pleases me. I have a special day planned for you tomorrow,” he smiled.

“I cannot wait,” she breathed, trying her best to suppress a happy sob. Wiping a tear off her cheek that had managed to escape, she took a brief moment to compose herself before speaking, “What about William and Drusilla? Will we be telling them soon?”

“Everything will be revealed to them after tomorrow’s events,” he smiled, cupping his hand over hers.

With Angelus’ newfound ownership of Pierre’s diamond mining business, he was waiting for word when his precious gem of God’s Wrath would be dug up. Until then, he would see whether or not he could unleash a gateway to hell on earth. In the meantime, he no longer had to put on airs; his patience had finally won.

This also extended to his current pet project with Elizabeth.


	44. Day 55: The Castaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **MA and trigger warning in effect. Burrito blankets and warm, soothing cuppas for all.**

**Nice, France - January 8, 1881**

As he had promised, Angelus whisked Elizabeth away on an early start that evening. They entered an area that was clearly lower class, deviating away from the seedy heart of the city where Elizabeth had made a ritual of picking her choice of bad men. Taking notice of this, Elizabeth found it a little surprising and unusual that Angelus had taken her there, but she thought better than to question him over something so trivial. She quietly took in her new surroundings as she observed the less graceful state of the buildings. It was easy to pick out evil when they made themselves so readily and visibly available, yet here, she would have to seek it out. There would always be bad men to weed out, even in the best areas.

“How does it feel to be engaged, Lizzy dear?” Angelus asked, pulling her closer to his side.

Turning to look at him, Elizabeth smiled, “Wonderful. I don't think I have ever felt this happy. It is like I truly belong somewhere.” She stopped in her tracks, making Angelus do the same. “With… someone,” she said as she reached up to touch his face.

Elizabeth hadn’t slept much last night since Angelus’ proposal; she had been too excited. Instead, she was accompanied by her thoughts, and was suddenly reminded of a sage woman’s words: someone would play a great role in her life, for the majority of her lifespan.

Initially Elizabeth had believed it was her sire, but with the sudden turn of happy events, her proposal and pending marriage to Angelus, he had quickly been replaced. The witch’s tarot reading had revealed that this person had an uncertain relationship with her, but that she held a strong sense of admiration and respect for him. Angelus had fit perfectly on all accounts- he was both her mentor and lover, a relationship that was rare but not uncommon, and her feelings for him as his pupil were deeply devout, just as her love for him was unbound. Though she wasn’t sure about him having difficulty expressing his feelings. He had a mysterious and reserved quality about him, so it wasn’t something she should have been alarmed about if he didn’t always share his thoughts on matters. In time, as his wife, she would patiently wait for him to open and show that side of him to her.

She beamed at the thought of all this, a secret that only she knew, that a old witch’s vision for her was actually coming true.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Angelus smiled, clasping his gloved hand over hers.

A woman dressed in black bumped into Elizabeth from behind, “Excuse me,” she said quietly, her gaze lowered.

Elizabeth turned to glance at her as she passed. The woman held onto a girl’s hand also dressed in black who trailed a beat behind.

Angelus stood still as he watched them go.

Having just walked a couple steps ahead of them, the little girl glanced back behind her curiously, allowing her gaze to settle onto Elizabeth.

It was a look that Elizabeth couldn’t help but return in recognition. They had crossed paths before; Elizabeth had rescued her from getting abducted in that alleyway.

Watching the woman and child retreat into an apartment building, Angelus walked forward. He pulled Elizabeth with him as he peered into their dimly lit window.

It was strangely coincidental for the two to meet again on a dark night, Elizabeth thought as she moved with Angelus. But she was relieved to see the girl well and with- she believed to be- her mother. This was the simplest of reasons that Elizabeth could tell herself to keep her growing knot of anxiety in her stomach at bay, a feeling that was not unlike their most recent visit to the butchery.

From inside, the mother lit a second lantern and carried it with her, but not before stopping and touching a framed portrait on the mantle of her wooden fireplace. She kissed her fingers then placed them over the face of the man’s image, letting her hand linger there for a moment, then forcing herself away to finish her errands.

Even in the dim lighting, the portrait was clear. Elizabeth tensed and swallowed, finding that for the second time that night, she recognised someone else, even if it was by means of a dead man’s photograph. She had killed that man. Made him a victim that night when he had threatened to take that little girl away- the same little girl who now resided in the home they were spying in.

The anxiety only made itself more evident in Elizabeth’s stomach.

The girl suddenly popped up from below the windowsill and peered at them curiously. She pried the window open, despite them being strangers, “You were there that night with my papa,” she said. “I was being naughty that night, but he still hasn’t come home. Do you know where he is? Tell him to come home; I’m being good now,” she said, looking up at Elizabeth with large eyes.

Elizabeth could feel that seed of doubt burrow its way down deep into her gut.

She looked at the girl with a small smile as the same blankness she had when she had killed Flossie glossed over her eyes, “I will…, if I see him,” she lied. “Close the window, dear, I don’t want to see you in trouble again,” she said gently.

Angelus remained silent and quietly observed Elizabeth’s reaction to all of this.

Turning away, Elizabeth balled her hands into fists and began to walk away, “I’m having that same feeling again,” her voice sounded hollow. “Something…, but nothing…,” her gaze was lowered to the ground as she searched for nothing in particular. “Not quite guilt, not quite anger…. What is happening to me?” she whispered, grasping the sides of her head.

“How peculiar…,” Angelus said, following her from behind. “Perhaps you’ll feel better if we went home,” he took her hand into his, causing her to slowly turn to him; she looked at him with slight apprehension. “Come, Lizzy, I’ll make you forget all about this, without a doubt,” he pressed her head to his shoulder as he guided her along.

With a soft sigh, Elizabeth melded her body to his form and relaxed, allowing his words to slowly wash away her anxiety. She believed him without question; only Angelus could make things right.

┼†‡

They returned to the manor shortly after. By then, Elizabeth had all but fallen back to her normal demeanour, and the incident earlier that night was safely tucked away at the back at her mind, without a worry or thought to add to it.

She held onto Angelus’ arm comfortably as he led her past the dead bodies and towards the stairwell. It soon became apparent, though, that he was escorting her to her bedroom, something Elizabeth found odd considering the early hour. However, Angelus made no signs of stopping as they passed her doorway.

“Did you ever wonder about what you could have seen in that sack that night?” he asked, his voice calm and soothing above her head.

Elizabeth turned to look at him, her brows stitching together lightly as she recalled that account, but also out of confusion as they entered Spike and Drusilla’s bedroom, “I remember what I saw; I was certain then, but now I do not know.”

Angelus pulled her forward still, till they stood standing in front of the wardrobe. “Open it up, Lizzy,” he encouraged her with a small smile.

Elizabeth turned to look at him with an amused laugh, quickly forgetting his previous question, “What is it? Have you hidden a gift in there for me?”

Angelus chuckled lightly in response, his teeth gleaming between his upturned lips, “Go on, dear, open the doors and have a look inside.”

Without another hint, Elizabeth turned to the wardrobe, pausing briefly to glance a smile at her love behind her, then turned back round. Gripping firm both handles, she pulled the doors open.

She was met with nothing more than the sight of Drusilla’s hanging dresses. Her gaze wandered around the interior from top to bottom before she leaned forward and started to peruse around her grandsire’s clothes.

Her once shining smile slowly dissolved into a frown and creased brows, “Angelus, I do not see anything here at all,” her voice could not hide the sound of disappointment. Pulling away, she watched the dresses sway back listlessly as she withdrew her hands- that was until she recognised a familiar colour of fabric. She paused as she slowly brought her hand out once more and pulled the length of skirt out towards her. She couldn’t help but let her thumb graze over the material as her brows drew together more tersely.

“Do you recognise anything, Lizzy?” Angelus said from behind her ear.

A chill ran up her spine as she felt the air from his mouth tickle the skin on the back of her neck, something that was now commonplace between the exchanges that Angelus made with her, but this time it felt different. Unsettling.

Elizabeth raised her head as her line of sight trailed to the other dresses, swaying like formless ghosts, “These… belonged to those young women… from weeks ago…,” her voice was soft, almost like she had replied on an exhalation of breath. She lowered her gaze as her eyes searched the floor. Memories of that night came back to her in a flash, and she recalled glimpses of the dresses those innocent and hypnotised girls wore. What made things worse was that they were not the last ones to have worn them- she had seen someone else in them. She had spied Drusilla wearing one of the girl’s green and black dress when she and Spike had come uninvited to Maddelena’s Christmas party. Again, her elder had worn one of the other girl’s gold dress on Christmas. Then there was the mint green one that day out when they had been searching for Drusilla, which resulted in the fatal events of her friend Flossie; the white gown with flowers lined in a sash that new year’s eve night; that sapphire blue dress that had almost complemented her own blue dress that day when Elizabeth had walked out to see both Drusilla and Spike standing across from each other, covered in their host’s blood, as his corpse lay dead at their feet.

With her head still bowed, her expression was screwed up in confusion, “You… promised to return them to safety….” She turned to him slowly with her brows furrowed deeply, “You… you lied to me…?” her brows dipped as her voice softened at the end of her question, sadness and betrayal made apparent on her features.

Angelus’ brows upturned into a frown and his eyes mirrored her pain, “No, I didn’t mean to, Lizzy. I had every intention of telling you….” He bowed his head and a soft chuckle let out before he peered back up at her with a dark smirk, “Was that along the lines of something you expected to hear?”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in disbelief at her love’s sudden drastic change in behaviour.

He took a menacing step towards her and loomed down over her face, “Lie to you, hmm?” he grinned. “Which part?”

She felt herself take an involuntary half step back, and even felt herself managing a nervous swallow. “Those girls were killed…,” Elizabeth kept her head steady and her eyes locked with his, but it was her voice that would show her true feelings. She paused briefly to collect her bearings to hide the waver in her tone, “Why, Angelus? Why did you do that?” the hurt seeping in again.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he gave a small shrug of his shoulders, letting them fall with indifference. “Didn’t you ever heed to William’s warnings? I’m not one to let a pretty little thing get away,” taking another step closer, the back of his fingers trailed over the side of her face and brushed her hair over her shoulder.

Elizabeth froze in her spot as a breath caught in her chest. His touch caused her to shiver internally and goose pimples and the hairs on her neck to raise, but it was out of unease- it felt like a stranger was touching her.

“They were just too tempting,” his white teeth peeked between his grin. “And of course, what better way to make that butcher look like some crazed killer than to have their hacked up limbs in that sack? Only way to make it believably convincing, wouldn’t you say?” he laughed.

Her chest and shoulders heaved as her breathing inclined unnecessarily, “You… were behind that,” she lowered her eyes as she whispered out loud, half said as a question and a reaffirming statement. She hadn’t been sure what had happened to those girls when she had claimed they had been killed, but Angelus had confirmed they were no longer alive, and that was solely unto his doing. “I wasn't seeing things…,” she searched the floor before allowing her gaze to trail back up to his devilish grin. She was sure she had seen what she had seen, and she had been right. But Angelus, he had gone to great lengths to make her doubt herself, to the point where she had questioned her own sanity.

“No, dear, you weren’t imagining things at all,” he smiled.

Elizabeth looked into his eyes as hers began to mist over, out of the hurt, disbelief, and betrayal that her most trusted companion, her mentor and her lover, had bestowed upon her. Angelus had made her believe she was ridding the world of the bad by killing the rapists, murderers, and evil doers, but she had taken the lives of two innocents: one, a father of a misbehaving girl, killed in a dark alleyway and left to die in the gutter; and another, a shady butcher who was only trying to make a living, crying out for mercy in his own pantry. How many more were unaccounted for? She couldn’t bear to entertain that thought. With parting lips, she drew in a shaky breath.

“First the butcher, then the father of a little girl. You even had a taste of a girl who had just taken her solemn vows,” he laughed. He answered her unspoken question as if she had asked it out loud. Angelus bent over her ear and whispered, “‘Make sure to drink it fast, the blood’s still warm’.”

A chill ran up Elizabeth’s spine. She remembered. It was the night when she had injured her ankle at Maddelena’s first party. Angelus had given her some unknown source of blood for her to consume, assuring her that it would make her better. Elizabeth felt sick to her stomach.

“Did you ever stop to question their motives? Did you even have undeniable proof that they had done what I had claimed them to do instead of blindly believing my words?” he laughed. “Oh, how naive; to be so blindly trusting…. You’ve just taken countless of innocent lives without even knowing about it,” he continued to snigger. “Everything’s not so black and white now, is it, Lizzy? Next time, don’t be so gullible,” he snarled in her face.

Elizabeth felt a breath catch in her throat again, or maybe it was the wind being knocked out of her. Or both. These were cruel words she only heard from her father and brother, not Angelus. Try as she might to convince herself otherwise, her eyes welled even more, causing her vision to blur.

Angelus perked up as he heard the sound of his progenies coming home.

He suddenly grabbed her and spun her around; Elizabeth yelped. From behind, he kept a tight hold on her as he guided her forward, “That all said, it comes down to the real question: did you really think you were something special? Hmm?” he whispered above her ear.

She peered through her tears over the vestibule as they came upon the scene of Spike and Drusilla laughing in a musicless dance, happy in love.

Angelus clung to the shadows from the interior balcony, making their presence unknown to the couple down below, “Did you really think they ever really cared for you? Doesn’t appear to be the case, does it?”  his hand was clamped firmly over Elizabeth’s mouth to prevent her from crying out to them as he brushed his nose along the side of her face. “You’re aware that William just wanted to discard you after he realised he had sired you. What makes it any different from now?” he let out a soft chuckle.

Elizabeth shook her head silently. She couldn’t believe that. Yes, her sire initially had no intention of keeping her as his progeny or even ‘alive’- he had openly admitted that to her. And though they butted heads- figuratively and literally- he always pulled through when she needed help, without her openly asking or admitting she needed it. Whether he had any intentions of actual compassion, he had saved her when he could have let that angry London mob burn her alive in her sleep, leant an open ear when she was facing internal turmoil over her family, and even offered unsolicited yet sound advice, even if some of it was masked with stinging remarks. He had so many opportunities to leave her, but he hadn’t. They had become an odd pair of friends- or something resembling that. At least that’s what Elizabeth believed him to be. He was the only one left.

“Drusilla’s too insane to tell anything from reality and the figment of her own delusional imagination,” Angelus sighed and shrugged. “But, I must admit, she was the greatest masterpiece I have ever created,” he looked on at his progeny below with some twisted fascination. “Did you know, I was the one who created her the way that she is?” he said softly above her ear, watching Drusilla dance.

Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide in horror and her back stiffened.

“It was magnificent.”

Feeling her tense only caused Angelus’ smile to grow wider. “I could tell from the way she doted on you, she could see a reflection of her sister- Ted, if I recall. Did she ever divulge the story of how we claimed her that fateful night? I made sure she watched as I raped both of her sisters before I killed them. Let her watch as I slaughtered every last single member of her living family,” he whispered softly into her other ear.

Tears slid down Elizabeth’s face and over Angelus’ hand.

“Her mother, father, and uncle.” Angelus closed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh as though he were reliving a grand moment, “Sends shivers down my spine every time I talk about it.” He opened his eyes and peered at Elizabeth, “Drusilla was very much like you: pious, devoutly religious, an innocent and chaste girl. But more importantly, it was her gift of sight that drew me in.”

He pulled her into her bedroom before shutting the door behind him and released his grip from her mouth, “Just watching as her fragile mind crumbled… it was such a delight,” he laughed. “She ran off to the abbey after I slaughtered her family. That absolutely tickled my fancy- having her become a nun!” laughter roared out of him like he had told an amusing joke. “I  _ love _ nuns,” his lips brushed the side of her cheek.

Elizabeth flinched and whimpered, but no other words formed as she listened in horror as he spoke.

“It didn’t take long after that. Killed the rest of her church, raped a few of the nuns, then finally,” he spun her around and made her face him as he grinned at her in his vampire face, “I raped her and she finally snapped. I broke her; I  _ had _ her.” Angelus finally released his hold on her.

Elizabeth stared up at him with eyes wide and lips slightly agape. Throughout all the time they had spent together, the nights out during her mentorship and prowls, she had never seen him in his other form. It was a shock to her. They were of the same kind, a darker ilk, but Angelus could do no evil- he was like an angel. In an instant, her illusion was shattered as she was faced with the real demon, one that even caused a demon like herself to tremble with fear. She slowly shifted backwards away from him, this man she no longer recognised, a man she no longer knew- or maybe never knew.

Angelus slowly walked towards her, “She’d forever be immortalised as my masterpiece.”

Elizabeth looked to him nervously. “Why… why are you telling me this…?” her voice was barely above a whisper as she croaked out her question; her mouth felt dry, her throat parched. That time Maurizio was in her bedroom, when Drusilla had dropped that doll dressed like a miniature Elizabeth at her feet in the vestibule, it was like a culmination of her feelings at those times but intensely worse. She never believed she would ever feel this way in the safety of Angelus’ presence, but she did. It was fear. She didn’t know whether to run or stay to listen to his reasoning, but at the same time, her legs were too numb as she stood paralysed in her spot.

“I thought it was curious, how even after you had been turned, you’d managed to keep some sensibility of your past life. Who’d ever heard of something born from darkness still cling to the devotion they held in their former one? It didn’t make sense to me.”

The room seemed to be spinning; Elizabeth’s shoulders heaved as her breathing increased. Her gaze wandered past him towards the shut door, and in an instant, Angelus was in her face and had his hands clamped over her wrists. She whimpered as she felt his grip tighten and she squirmed in pain.

Angelus grinned down at her, “I took you on as my next pet project, as an experiment, you could say.”

Elizabeth snapped her head towards him, her eyes round in shock.

He canted his head and let his eyes wander over her curiously, “Was it really something that you could overcome? Or perhaps,” he lowered his head into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply, “you’d be something as glorious as Drusilla?” he laughed as he peered at her from the side of her face.

She was in disbelief. Everything that they had shared together had meant absolutely nothing to him? That she was only a toy to him for his game? She couldn’t feel her fear anymore because it was drowned in heartbreak. Tears blurred her vision again, and her brows bowed as she peered into Angelus’ yellow eyes.

“I wouldn’t normally do this to another creature of the night; I’d have cast you aside altogether, but you behave as though you still have a soul in you,” he chuckled at the thought of that.

Elizabeth dropped her gaze to the floor and shook her head; tears began to fall silently as her features crumpled.

“What’s wrong, Lizzy? Don’t you  _ love _ me? Don’t you  _ trust _ me? I’m your fiance!” he laughed, jerking her up so she was forced to stare back at his mocking face.

A sob bubbled out of Elizabeth’s mouth that she had tried so hard to suppress.

“‘ _ Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? / Thou art more lovely and more temperate: / Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, / And summer's lease hath all too short a date:’,”  _ he began to recite as he walked her backwards.

Sonnet 18, Elizabeth’s favourite poem. To her, it held the very idea of true love, and reminded her of the simple beauty that she thought existed in the world. Hearing him speak those words now held no trace of those pure ideals, they only reflected his mockery from before.

_ “‘Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, / And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;  / And every fair from fair sometime declines, / By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd;’,”  _ Angelus pushed Elizabeth down onto the bed.

A shrill cry escaped Elizabeth’s lips as the air was knocked out of her lungs. In that same instant when she hit the bed, the fear in her that had been at bay began to make itself apparent again. It was slow and mounting, but it flooded her like a sudden blast of cold air when he clambered on top of her.

Angelus clamped his hands down against her wrists as he loomed above her and grinned.

Her hands balled into fists and she jerked against his hold, squirming from the monster who held her against her will. A moan rumbled from her throat, a protest, because she couldn’t form the willing words.

_ “‘But thy eternal summer shall not fade / Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;’,”  _ he forced her arms above her head and secured her in place at the wrists, much like he had that first time, and began to tear at her dress with his other hand.

Elizabeth shook her head with fervor as her crying grew louder. She looked up at his face, into his inhuman eyes and drew a breath, “An...Angelus…, please…,” she finally managed to whisper, hoping there was some small ounce of his former self she could reach.

_ “‘Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, / When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st;’,“  _ satisfied with the state that she was in, his free hand wandered down over her chest and waist, and lower till he had her skirts hiked up. He spread her legs with his knees.

Tears trickled over Elizabeth’s cheeks, leaving a spattering of wet stains on the pillow, “Angelus, please, no,” she said with a little more force in her voice, still hoping there was a possibility to turn him around. “Not like this,” she pleaded.

_ “‘So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,’”  _ he gripped her face with his free hand, forcing her to look up at him as he grinned; Elizabeth moaned softly.

Elizabeth unclenched her hands and flexed her fingers, “Angelus…,” she hoped he could hear her over his own words.

_ “‘So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.’,” _

“…I love you.”

Angelus flicked his gaze briefly towards the ring round her finger before casting his monstrous grin down below her; he sealed the poem with an invasive kiss.

He was gone. He no longer existed.

Had never existed.

Elizabeth let her tears slip freely as he kissed her, one that was unlike the tender and sensual ones filled with love and affection they had shared in the past. His tongue had slithered in like some serpent, slimy and slick over her own tongue and the roof of her mouth.

He pulled back and laughed, but as a part of him retreated, another part of him forced its way in.

Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath and squealed. It was a pain like no other. And the one afflicting it was the one who had promised her love and devotion. She squirmed against his hold out of vain, hoping to inch away from the perpetual stabbing feeling between her legs.

“What is it, dear? Isn’t this what you wanted?” Angelus chuckled, thrusting without care or consideration. “As soon as I stepped into a room, all I could smell was that wet cunt of yours, just waiting for me to have you bedded, begging to get  _ fucked _ .”

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut; she couldn’t face him because his accusations were true. “Not like this…,” she gasped between whimpers of pain and sobs.

She was ready to give her body to him before their engagement, and even before their marriage, but this was far from how she had imagined it, something so void of love, tenderness, and care. Perhaps this was her form of punishment from God for being so naive, having killed all those innocent people. The only time Angelus was speaking the truth was just to reinforce her sinful desires and actions. Maybe He was working through him; He does work in mysterious ways.

Angelus fanned her legs farther apart and pressed her up against the base of headboard, keeping her body firmly in place as he drilled into her mercilessly; his pace only quickened, “How about this?” he laughed, grunting with delight and pleasure.

“Not like…,” her voice fell inaudible as she mouthed the last word.

Elizabeth turned her head to the side as she looked past his form towards the door again. It was clear after all of this, he wouldn’t be coming. Maybe Angelus had revealed some truth then, too, and he didn’t care.

┼†‡

Hunched over the body of his victim, Spike suddenly snapped his head up. Blood dripped down his chin as he drew in some ragged breaths; the unconscious and near dead body lay limp in his arms as he stared off into the distance. It was an inexplicable wave of unease that had interrupted Spike’s meal, a feeling that left him feeling oddly anxious when he had been in a state of bliss not seconds before.

Drusilla moaned behind him as she stood suckling from her morsel. She didn’t seem to detect anything out of the ordinary, even with her foresight. Then what could he possibly be feeling?

Spike swept a side glance at her before turning back around and looking beyond the distance where the manor lay.

┼†‡

The rape went on for what seemed like hours. Elizabeth’s cries and whimpers had grown silent and she complacent; her stare was vacant and lost as her eyes remained fixed to the door, but they focused on nothing.

With a final grunt, Angelus finished and collapsed heavily to her side. He pushed himself up before slowly rolling off the bed and getting up, his visage having morphed back into a man’s. “Thought it’d be a more interesting lay,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a small sneer, “but be glad you weren’t the worst of the lot, dear.”

Elizabeth didn’t respond and remained catatonic as a final, silent tear slipped down the side of her face.

He took a step towards the bed once more and hovered over her face as he smiled, “Remember,” he lifted her hand.

She finched.

He held her hand up to her face so that she could see the ring, “You’re mine,” he laughed. Angelus kissed her hand before dropping it, allowing it to flop down like a dead carp next to her head, then left her alone in the room.

Elizabeth’s gaze focused on the ring, a damnable thing that felt like lead weighing her down. After a few minutes had passed, and all she was surrounded with was silence, she rolled to her side and pulled her knees to her chest. Her slack face tightened together as she finally allowed herself to cry. Quiet sobs wracked her small frame as she gasped for air that she didn’t need to breathe, and a low moan and wail finally broke free from the depths of her chest.

She had never felt so weak before. Yet even as she lay there, torn and in shambles, she knew she had to leave. Being awakened to this truth by Angelus so forcibly had left Elizabeth numb; everything was different. She could not stay with them because she, and all of them, had been living a lie. Her love for Angelus: a lie. Her friendship with her sire: a lie. Her familial bond with Drusilla: a lie.

She was not wanted. She never was.

An hour had passed, though she wasn’t sure, nor cared, when she finally pushed herself up. She grimaced with the sudden adjustment, the dull pain in her suddenly roaring to life as things shifted things inside her and reopened fresh wounds. She whimpered as she tugged forward across the sheets, feeling something wet when she dragged past where her legs had been forced open.

Elizabeth sat at the edge of her bed and held fast to the bedpost, holding tightly as she leaned her weight against it and hoisted herself up. Her body protested against her decision to move, the pain between her legs reminding her of the torture she had just endured as she whimpered again, and her eyes were renewed with fresh tears. Now standing, she felt something trickle down from between her legs. A wave of nausea swept over her.

She continued onward, limping slowly and carefully towards her water basin before she stripped herself of the remnants of her gown, her hands trembling as she did this, but not from the cold. In nothing but her corset and chemise, Elizabeth did her best to clean herself. She moaned softly when she brought the cleaning rag between her legs. It was soaked red after she lifted it up to rinse off, along with a part of Angelus that he had left behind in her.

Elizabeth sobbed quietly throughout all of this, her hands shaking as she scrubbed at her skin till it was flush pink. Images of Angelus’ face haunted her in her mind’s eye like it was happening all over again. She could hear his scathing words, his taunting cackle. Even when nothing remained on her skin, she felt filthy. With a final outcry, she struck the side of the basin and sent the bloodied water splashing across the room. She had to force herself to move, or she wouldn’t at all.

Feeling the numbness settle its way into her again allowed Elizabeth to work through her pain as she got dressed. She needed to leave.

She stood idly by her bed as she looked about the room before turning to her dresser and finding her gloves and purse. She checked inside the pouch and was satisfied, thinking the money she had would be enough to buy a train ticket.

As she began to put on her gloves, Elizabeth paused at the sight of the Claddagh ring. His proposal, how the ring represented a sign of his devotion to her, and his onslaught of reminding her that she was his like some possession, were muddled all into one. With trembling hands, Elizabeth yanked the cold metal off and chucked it across the room. She heard it clatter across the floor till it settled somewhere unseen.

Finally having her cloak tied under her chin after several shaky attempts, Elizabeth slipped out her door as quietly as she could.

┼†‡

Angelus was quite pleased with his results. Whether Elizabeth was another work of art or not, he did not care. She was no longer any use to him; she was nothing short of disposable.

Using her as Maurizio’s love interest and Drusilla’s victim of torment was just by sheer coincidence, but it definitely added to his favour, keeping her isolated and making her lean and depend on him solely. He didn’t even have to do much for her to turn from Spike, as he was already doing that himself.

Giving himself a good clean over and changing into new clothes, Angelus paid no attention to the other sounds of the house. He heard her stumbling a bit, and one shrieking cry- which only added to his good humour and mood- but made no attempt to check on her. If she wanted to kill herself or run, either choice would be a luxury for him. If she stayed, he’d coach her into something wholly different than the works and mindlessness of Drusilla.

┼†‡

Much later that night, Drusilla and Spike returned to their new home.

Drusilla passed by Elizabeth’s bedroom door without pause, but Spike lingered behind and looked at it vacantly before thinking better than to act on a whim of a strange feeling. She’d probably think he was was actually concerned about her, he scoffed internally. Shaking off that thought, he followed Drusilla into their bedroom.

The following morning, he made his way into the parlour, only to find Angelus perched there with his legs kicked up on the armrest.

He peered at him curiously, “More plans to take the girl out tonight?” he asked snidely.

“No, not any more,” Angelus glanced up at him nonchalantly, canting his head comfortably against the chair’s backrest.

“Oh? Got bored of her already?” Spike smirked. “Or has she finally come to her senses?”

“She’s gone.”

That was a reply that Spike did not expect; his eyes widened slightly. “‘Gone’? What do you mean-”

“As in, she’s left. Flown the coop. She’s left the nest.”

Spike was speechless, not yet realising that his mouth was left slightly agape.

“Are you suddenly so concerned about her, William?” Angelus chuckled at him softly.

“I… no, ‘course not,” Spike frowned a bit, but his voice didn’t have that harsh edge to it; it was a little more subdued. “Did she say where she was going?”

Angelus shrugged, “Haven’t a clue. I just realised she was gone this morning. Must have left last night.”

“But, why…?” Spike had his brows stitched together in confusion. “I thought we were all getting along. I mean, we’ve had our differences at times, but it was never to the point where we were at each other’s throats. It was all fun and games. She looked up to you, and adored Drusilla. Why would she just suddenly leave…?”

“Perhaps she thought she had to spread her wings a bit,” Angelus sat up and leaned forward as he peered at his progeny with some curiosity.

Spike glanced down and nodded, “Perhaps…. She’ll do well on her own, now. She… knows how to protect herself,” he noted, remembering how she had saved him from an attack at the tavern. He wondered now, at that moment when he had suddenly felt that wave of anxiety, if it had been Elizabeth when she was facing the decision to leave them. He believed that it was. Maybe it was for the best, he thought.

They would carry on without her, just like they had before.


End file.
